


Forever Painted in Stars

by InvictaAnimi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, California, Conspiracy, Dean/Cas Big Bang 2020 (Supernatural), Destiel - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mystery, Oral Sex, Pining, Private Investigator Dean Winchester, Sketchbook clues, dean/cas - Freeform, scientist!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 73,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvictaAnimi/pseuds/InvictaAnimi
Summary: After losing Cas, his best friend and love of his life, Dean tries to escape his grief by joining the Army. He goes back to California after one tour of duty, ready to repair his relationship with Sam and start a private investigation business.Dean still can’t handle talking about Cas… until he sees a perfect copy of him walking down the street.Biochemist Jimmy Novak has so many holes in his background that Dean becomes certain that he is Cas. When he provides enough evidence to convince Jimmy, the real danger begins.With only a sketchbook filled with cryptic pictures to guide them, they wander the state trying to piece together the past five years and figure out what Cas was involved in.They were each other’s everything for over a decade. Now, they have to rebuild that relationship while they run for their lives.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 115
Kudos: 237
Collections: DCBB 2020, The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Starting Over

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! Posting Day for DCBB 2020!! 
> 
> I have been thinking about this story in one way or another since February, so I can hardly believe that it's being released into the world today. I hope you all enjoy this story. I've done some plots that I thought were complex before, but they have nothing on this one. 
> 
> I want to thank the moderators of DCBB for hosting such a wonderful challenge. DCRB last year was the first challenge I ever posted for, so I had to try the "big one" as well. I have loved this collaboration, so thank you again for organizing this enormous bang.
> 
> My artist, sapphirecobalt, is amazingly talented. She has a knack for creating pieces that hit the absolute perfect emotions for a story. You'll see what I mean as you read. 
> 
> Thank you so very much, dear. Your art has really brought this story to life and I love it!! 
> 
> Check out her Instagram post: https://www.instagram.com/p/CG_C7jpnsGN/?igshid=7wqh9mox78rl

After four years of working as an all-source intelligence officer in the Army, Dean Winchester can read a room. With hardly a visible glance, he can tell where every ingress and egress point is, who the viable threats might be, and what items in the room could be used as either weapons or a means of protection.

He learned these and a magnitude of other beneficial skills on his tour of duty, but he also learned how frustrating it is to do his job with one hand permanently tied behind him with red tape. As soon as his debt to Uncle Sam was paid, he decided it was time to go back to California. Not that he ever particularly wanted to step foot in the state again. Every place he goes now is haunted. Not literally. That’s ridiculous. But his memories haunt him just as surely as if he were seeing ghosts.

However, California is where Sam chose to go to college, even after Dean took off like his hair was on fire and joined the army. He was gone on a four year tour without so much as a goodbye to his brother. The action was something so out of character for him that he should have woken up and taken a step back before he signed his life away. At the time, though, his life really hadn’t been that valuable to him.

Dean hadn’t even gone back to their apartment after… well. After. He’d gone right from CalTech to the recruitment office. To be perfectly honest, the recruitment office was next to a liquor store, which was his original destination. When he saw the sign with the proud soldier standing at attention, though, he thought it was a sign sent to him personally from God. Now, he isn’t sure who sent the sign, but the past is in the past where it belongs.

Looking at his watch, Dean realizes that his client is late. A quick glance at his phone tells him that he’d texted twice already. ‘Stuck in traffic. Be there asap.’

Well, no shit. This is Pasadena and it’s 6 p.m. Of course he is stuck in traffic, which is why Dean had tried to convince him to move this meeting to later in the evening or to a different location. Any other location, in fact.

With a shake of his head, he sets the phone down and signals the bartender for another drink. He isn’t going to get sloppy, but being back in Pasadena is messing with his head. He swore he’d never come back here, and if it weren’t for this client that his burgeoning business needs desperately, he would have had no problem sticking to his guns.

On the way here, he was very careful to drive where he wouldn’t accidentally see any of the campus buildings - especially the Biochemistry building. He also refuses to go anywhere that they used to frequent. Of course, he quite slyly covered that up by asking his client to pick somewhere new so that he can see how the old town has changed. Dean never would have picked this place. It’s a mix of so many different cultures and styles that it actually misses having one at all. It’s visual and auditory chaos, and as scans the menu, he becomes certain that the food is going to prove similar.

Using his extensive intelligence training, he chose to become a private investigator once he left the military. He’d actually used his last few months in the Army to take his PI exam and get his business set up. The only thing he couldn’t do from there was build a clientele.

When he returned from Italy, he had showed up on Sam’s doorstep in Malibu and asked for forgiveness. He would say begged, but Dean rarely shows any emotion. Intense feelings are not something that he allows anymore. It wasn’t like they didn’t talk during the four years he was away. Sam always made himself available to talk when Dean had the time. But things were awkward and stilted despite their attempts to stay in touch. Dean knew that Sam was still hurt by the way he left, and he needed a heartfelt apology at the very least to start repairing their relationship.

Glancing at his watch again, Dean internally sighs. These meetings are the worst part of his new career. He has never had to woo a client before, and he isn’t great at self-promotion. Sam says that it has to do with the permanent scowl on his face and the fact that he could easily be an AI robot for all the humanity he shows. Whenever he teases his older brother, he receives nothing but his middle finger. Dean prefers to let his work speak for him. That and forcing himself to crack a smile might break more than it helps. It’s been close to five years since his life ended. Now, he’s just waiting out the rest of his time on earth without picking at too many old wounds. He’s forced to leave the past in the past when he sees his client hurry down the aisle to meet him.

Dean hates these kinds of gigs. Once his business gets off the ground, he isn’t going to take any more husband vs. wife cases. It’s skeevy to follow a woman all over town and monitor her with the sole intention of digging up dirt. What happened to communication in a relationship? What happened to trusting your partner? He’d said so to Sam not ten minutes ago when they’d been talking.

“Trust can be broken, Dean. That’s what everyone is afraid of.”

“Why would you stay with someone that you can’t trust? That doesn’t make any sense. If you can’t speak openly to the person you love, you aren’t in a healthy relationship.”

“Not everyone is lucky enough to have the kind of relationship that you -”

Dean’s countenance turns to ice. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

“Dean, it’s been almost five years.”

“I’m not talking about this.”

Sam sighs. “I lost him too, you know. It would be nice to be able to talk about him.”

Dean swallows hard and sets his jaw. He can barely get out the words, “I can’t. Not…yet.”

“Dean-”

“I’ve got to run.” He doesn’t wait for Sam to say anything before he hangs up. While Dean has found that he’s great at staying in touch when he’s on stakeouts, there is still one topic that will always end the conversation abruptly. Cas.

Sam Winchester has never seen anything more out of place than his older brother at a fraternity party. He’s leaning against the wall watching two of Sam’s fraternity brothers play pool, the same beer in his hand that has been there since Sam put it there almost an hour ago. He knows that Dean hasn’t talked to anyone beyond the nicety of telling them his name and shaking their hand, either, because he’s personally sent a few interested parties over to introduce themselves.

It hasn’t always been this way, though, which is why Sam keeps trying. Dean used to be the life of any party, practically glowing with a magnetism that no one could deny, man or woman. Of course, it didn’t matter that everyone had eyes for Dean because Dean only ever had eyes for Cas.

They met when Dean was just ten years old and Cas was twelve. They both had to stay after school for detention, and neither of their worthless fathers had remembered to pick them up. They chose to walk the couple of miles home rather than wait, stopping at a candy store on the way at Dean’s prompting. While they were gorging themselves on candy thanks to Cas’s allowance, which he took from his father’s wallet every Monday because he never remembered, they laughed about how upset everyone was going to be when they weren’t waiting at the school. They concocted an entire story about how their fathers would cry and go to the police to report them missing. There would be a story about it on the news, and maybe they would even get on TV.

There wasn’t a story on the news, and there weren’t any police cruisers patrolling the streets looking for the boys when Dean got home. His dad wasn’t home by dinner time, so Dean cooked up some spaghetti for Sam, gave him a bath, and read to him. When they woke up in the morning, their dad still wasn’t home. Of course, Sam was too little to remember any of this, but Dean had told the story a few times. It was one of the most important days of his life. It was the day he met his best friend and the day he realized that he couldn’t count on his dad.

For a few years, the three of them did everything together. They were thick as thieves. But when Cas was 16, things changed. He and Dean started staring at each other in a different kind of way. They started whispering and smiling at each other, forgetting that Sam was even there. It was about the time of Sam’s first growth spurt, and he was invited to play baseball with the school team. From that point on, Sam spent most of his time with the kids his own age, making his own friends. Cas and Dean became an official couple when Dean turned 16, and there was no one else for either of them.

Sam knew that Dean hadn’t just lost his best friend or boyfriend. Cas had been his everything. So when Cas died, part of Dean died with him. The cold, lifeless eyes that looked at him when he looked at his brother made Sam want to cry. Dean went from a joyful, if immature, young man with a bright future to this automaton. Frowning, Sam approaches his brother.

“Hey, man. You do remember that you’re at a party, right?”

Dean comes to life, but in a mechanical, forced way. “Yeah, I’m not being my normal charming self, am I? This case I’m on has got me up at the crack of dawn to follow a rich housewife to yoga or pilates or barre whatever. I’m beat.”

Sam gives him a tight smile. “It’s good to see you. I appreciate that you made the effort.”

Dean graces him with a real but brief, warm smile. “I’m glad that you’re doing well, Sammy. It looks like you’re happy here.”

“I really am, Dean.” The brothers hug in the half back slap, half chest bump way that they learned from their dad.

Ruffling his younger brother’s hair, he takes his leave. On his drive home, which is just through the canyons in Thousand Oaks, Dean stops at a scenic overlook and turns off his car. Strictly speaking, these roads are quite dangerous, and he shouldn’t turn off the lights or an oncoming car might not notice him, but he’s here for the stars. He’s farther north than they used to live by less than an hour, so the views are remarkably similar. The canyons are filled with the ambrosia of night-blooming Jasmine, too.

Remembering Cas is painful enough, but adding these sense memories makes him choke on an unwanted sob that bubbles up out of his chest. There are days when he can’t contain his grief any longer, when it pummels him from the inside, desperate to get out. They were infrequent while he was stationed in Vicenza, but since he’s been back in Cali, they are as regular as Old Faithful.

Bargaining with God never worked when he was young. It didn’t bring his mom back, and it didn’t make his dad give a shit about him and his brother. His young and naive mind had rationalized that Cas was the trade off. He might not have his parents, but God gave him Cas, who was his chosen family. When Cas was taken away, Dean stopped asking for things. What would be the point? There was nothing else he wanted.

His face sticky and itchy with drying tears, Dean sits up on the hood of his Impala. He’d needed the emotional release tremendously, though he is loath to admit it. But his muscles are relaxed and he can take lungfuls of air for the first time in weeks, so he can’t deny the facts. He’s been building up pressure steadily, and with everything that he’s repressing, it isn’t hard to guess that one of these days he might blow. Dean is self-aware enough to know that he is mourning Cas in the wrong way. He won’t talk about him, won’t share the only thing of Cas that he has left because he can’t say out loud that he is gone. He can’t speak of him in the past tense like he isn’t still the most important person in his life. Sam wouldn’t mind his second place status. He’s always said that it was obvious that Cas was a part of him.

“I love you more than is sane. I will love you longer than time.” The familiar goodbye makes Dean hitch in a breath as the words wobble toward the end. He’d always meant them - every single time he spoke them. He just never would have thought that he’d have so much more time than Cas.

Meeting with his client again, this time to wrap up the case that never was one, Dean chooses the bar. He’s trying to stretch his limits, trying to extend his reach into places with ghosts. This bar was a haunt of theirs whenever Cas couldn’t get away from his lab until late. It is a little too college-age for him, but it always was. Because it is a Tuesday night, it’s mostly quiet so they can talk.

“So she isn’t cheating?”

Dean quirks a smile. “No, she’s not cheating. She’s not doing anything untoward as far as I can see, and I was pretty invasive. Her schedule is routine, she doesn’t have any separate bank accounts, and she isn’t showing any deceptive behaviors.”

“Oh, that’s such a relief,” Dean’s client sags back into the bar stool. Dean is sitting with his back to the wall, his eyes darting up to the entrance and front windows frequently. He isn’t expecting an enemy threat in Pasadena, but his training is ingrained at this point. There’s no use trying to pry it out.

“Tell me, what made you think she…?” The words are still drifting off of his tongue, when he sees someone walk by on the street that he thought he’d never see again. That he can’t see again. There’s no way. It’s impossible.

Dean stands up, and in his haste, the stool scoots and skitters on the tile behind him. He can hear that his client is trying to speak to him, but it is all just static over the pounding of his own heart and the whoosh of blood in his ears. He opens his mouth to speak, blinks to clear his vision, but he’s still there, and almost passing from view. Dean can’t let him get away.

Without a word, Dean bolts for the door and gets out to the sidewalk. Seeing him crossing the street, Dean yells out to him - a name he never thought he’d be able to say out loud again.

“CAS!”

He doesn’t so much as flinch. Maybe he’s wearing headphones? Maybe it isn’t him. Again he tries, “Castiel!”

When that doesn’t work, Dean screams, “Hey! You!”

Finally, the man slows. The second between him stopping and turning is the longest of Dean’s life. Is it him? Could it be? How? Was it a lie? Is it a miracle? All of the questions swarm him like an angry hive, casting shadows of doubt on him that he wants to wave away like the pests they are.

And then he’s looking at the beloved face that he dreams about every night. There aren’t any signs that Cas knows him, but he’s always had such bad eyesight and his asshole father refused to buy him glasses. He obviously can’t see Dean from this far away.

Without even meaning to take the first step, Dean walks towards the love of his life. Mesmerized and incapable of looking away, he finally says, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

The dark hair is the same. The confused tilt to his head, the parted lips, and the furrowed brow are all so achingly familiar. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”

Dean sputters in disbelief. “Met? Don’t be ridiculous, Cas. You’ve known me more than half your life.”

A trickle of sweat drips in Dean’s hairline and a wave of nausea floods him with a damp chill. No. Don’t say it. Please, don’t say it.

“My name isn’t Cas. It’s Jimmy. You must have me confused with someone else.”

“Cas, please.” Dean is desperate to make his reality true. If he believes it strongly enough, he can make it true. Dean is shaking his head, forcing the other man’s words to disappear with his denial.

“That’s not-”

Dean gets in his face, begging for recognition. “Look at me. Just look at me for a second. It’s Dean. You know me. You’re in love with me. We’ve been together for years.”

When Dean can’t help his instinct to touch his face, the man swats his hand away. He might as well have kicked him in the gut. It stops Dean cold. He’s still shaking his head, but continues to talk.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but sweetheart, I know it’s you.”

“I’m not this person you’re looking for. I’m sorry. I’m Jimmy Novak. Look.” The man reaches into the pocket of a trench coat, which is the first thing that Dean can say is decidedly not Cas. He wore comfortable, stylish clothing even while working at the CalTech lab. There is no way that he’d be caught wearing a frumpy suit. Way too beige for his Cas.

Pulling out his driver’s license, he shows it to Dean, and breaks his heart again. The man is who he says he is, and Dean crumbles. All that pressure, all that sadness, and all that pain come to a violent head and burst the dam of Dean’s defenses. A tear falls and splatters on the piece of plastic that ended Dean’s hope. “It can’t be. It has to be you. I can’t lose you again. Not again. Please, not again.”

His babbling gives way to sobbing and the startled man doesn’t know what to do. “Can I call someone for you?”

It’s the same thing you might say to a lunatic addict if they were having a fit on the street and it burns him with embarrassment. Wait. Call.

“Look. Look at my phone.” Dean pleads, digging into his albums for the pictures he keeps tucked away. Seeing the first one takes his breath away like a collapsed lung, and he can’t bear to see any more of them, not with Cas’s doppelganger standing in front of him.

Dean hands him the phone, wanting something from him, but not really knowing what. He wants him to acknowledge that he is identical to Cas, that they must be related if not the same person. He wants him to not think that he is crazy, but most of all, he wants something to snap into place and bring Cas back to him.

“Wow. He really looks like me.” Jimmy comments.

“Exactly the same. You see that, right?”

“Yes, the similarity is striking. I’d think you Photoshopped me into the pictures.” His attempt at humor falls flat when the comment seems to make Jimmy nervous instead of lightening the mood. He takes a subtle step back.

All Dean can see is rejection. Cas isn’t here. He isn’t looking at him even though every grieving piece of him believes that he is. Jimmy is identical to Cas in every way. Even his voice is rough and deep like his. The rounded enunciation of certain syllables, the lop-sided speaking from the side of his mouth, the nervous way he tugs his hair. It’s Cas.

Except it can’t be because Cas is dead.

A sudden wave of misery inundates Dean and he goes under. Through the gut-wrenching sobs, he feels another body take his weight. The arms around him feel like the home he hasn’t had for five years. Clutching the slick, synthetic fabric in his fists, he can’t let go.

“I’m going to call someone to come for you. Who?”

“Sam. Please call Sam.”

Over his own weeping, he hears Jimmy talk, but he can’t make out the words. It’s too exhausting. All he can do is wallow in this agony. He’s trembling now, and he’s fairly certain that he’s in shock. Do people go into shock when they see their dead lovers?

“Your brother is on his way. Let’s sit down on the curb so we don’t get run over.”

Dean doesn’t react, but he also doesn’t resist when Jimmy leads him out of the street, which he sees as a good sign. Whoever Dean is, whatever has happened to him, he is in a great deal of pain. It wouldn’t be right for him to just walk away and leave him here. Amelia will be worried that he’s late, but he doesn’t want to seem rude by texting while this poor man is having a crisis. She will understand. If nothing else, she’s a kind person.

When Dean had first approached him, he’d been certain that this intense, hulking man was trying to start a fight. He honestly thinks that a punch in the nose would have been easier to handle than this. He’s never seen someone so distraught before. It is disconcerting to have all of that pain focused on him when he’s never laid eyes on this man in his life.

After his intentions became clearer, he’d feared that Dean was insane. The jury is still out on that, but Sam seemed to be a level-headed young man. He’s hoping that they can all get out of this incident unscathed. Except, that ship has already sailed for Dean, he’s afraid. The man is still sniffling and leaking tears at an alarming rate. It’s all Jimmy can do to stop himself from wiping them away.

Uncharacteristically, Jimmy’s head is pounding with a nasty headache. The lights around them feel too bright, every sound harsh and sharp. Dean is leaning heavily on him, which should probably bother him more than it does. His weight is welcome, though, like a comfort he didn’t know he craved.

“Tell me about yourself, Jimmy,” Dean croaks.

Being curled protectively around this stranger is oddly less intimate than sharing personal details. His arm is slung over his broad shoulders which are hunched in on themselves.

“Well, there’s not much to say. I’m a Biochemist, and I work at Auditec Pharma.”

Dean huffs out a humorless, pitiful laugh. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me,” Jimmy says quietly, suddenly desperate to be in this man’s confidence for whatever reason.

“My…Cas was a doctoral student at CalTech. Molecular Biochemistry.”

Jimmy finds his heart pounding at Dean’s admission. The coincidences are adding up at an alarming rate, and he isn’t a big believer in coincidences in the first place. What are the chances that he and this Cas are nearly identical, both live in Pasadena, and both have the same highly specific career path?

Dean tucks into a smaller ball, his head dropping into his hands as another uncontrollable sob breaks through his torn down walls. “I’m sorry. I swear I’m not this much of a cry baby. I never talk about him because it hurts too much, and this is just…it’s too much. Having you right here, looking like his twin. I can’t…”

Jimmy rubs his hand over Dean’s upper back soothingly while he considers. “Dean, if you want me to go, I-”

The other man’s head comes up abruptly and Jimmy is surprised by how much softer Dean looks with tears in his eyes and his lashes clumped together. There is something delicate to his features, making him a contrast in both masculine and feminine. Without the scowl, he looks younger than Jimmy had initially thought as well. He is probably younger than him by a couple of years. He is far too young to have experienced such tragedy.

“No, please don’t go.” There is vulnerability in the request that breaks Jimmy’s heart all over again. Dean can’t bear to look at him, but can’t bear the thought of him leaving even more.

“If me being here is too much, I can-”

“I know what I said, but would you please stay?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“Tell me more?”

“Sure. There really isn’t much to tell. I’m pretty boring really.”

“I doubt that’s true. I’ll bet you’re fascinating. At the very least, I know you’re kind.”

Jimmy chuckles. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Let’s see…I’m from Illinois. I studied at UC Berkeley, and I’m married to a woman I met there. Her name is Amelia.”

Instantly, Dean sucks in a breath and pulls out of his grasp. He staggers back a few steps as he tries to stand, looking at Jimmy as if he’d perpetrated the worst kind of betrayal.

“Dean, what did I say?”

Blinking and shaking his head, Dean finally confesses, “Nothing, I just forgot that you weren’t my…” He swallows hard and looks away.

Oh. Now he understands. This poor man is trying to reconcile him with his dead boyfriend, and he just told him he was married to a woman. Ouch. He just keeps putting his foot deeper into his mouth. ‘Why don’t you tell him all about your sex life while you’re at it?’ his inner monologue snarks. Although, there isn’t one to speak of. They haven’t so much as kissed since his accident. Now is not the time to contemplate that sad truth.

“I’m sorry, Dean. That was insensitive of me.”

Dean is pacing and running his hands over his face. “No, I asked. Besides, you’re not him, right? I don’t have any reason to object to you being straight, or married, or anything at all because you’re nothing to me.”

It sounds like he is trying to will his words into being believed, even though the crack in his voice on the word ‘nothing’ hurts Jimmy to hear.

“You’re a complete stranger who just happens to look and sound and feel just like my Cas. Exactly like him. You live in the same city and are in the same field, but you’re not him. He’s gone. This doesn’t change anything. He’s still gone. He’s not coming back.”

As Dean babbles, he starts crying again, even though he is struggling valiantly not to. It is breaking Jimmy’s heart, and he gets up from the curb and puts himself closer to Dean to offer comfort. Dean takes a step back for every slow step he takes forward, until his back is against the wall of the restaurant.

He puts a hand out, trying to keep Jimmy from getting any closer. “Don’t, please. I can’t handle touching you again.”

“I just want to help. You are in distress and I’m making it so much worse, aren’t I?”

“No. Yes. Look, I know you aren’t trying to. I know that. If I could find one thing that was different about you, this wouldn’t be so hard. I just…can’t. You’re utterly identical. It’s like talking with a ghost.”

Jimmy is so miserable watching this young man fall apart that his eyes fill with answering tears. It doesn’t make sense. Why should he feel anything other than common sympathy for his plight? It must be because it directly involves him because seeing Dean like this is twisting him into agony.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry. Please.” Dean begs and takes his first step forward. “It kills me to see you cry.”

Jimmy knows that he is confusing the two of them again, reverting back to old memories of soothing his lost love. It doesn’t stop him from stepping into his embrace, from taking comfort from him. After a few moments, Dean whispers, “Jesus, you even smell like him.”

He can’t help bringing his hand up to rub Dean’s back, as unusual as it seems. They stand like that, temple to temple, soaking in this odd, therapeutic touch, until they hear a voice yell for Dean. They both look up and the very tall younger man comes to a dead stop.

“Cas?” he questions hesitantly before shaking his head. “No, it can’t be, right?”

“Jimmy. Novak. You must be Sam.” They shake hands, which further separates him from Dean. The cold air is bothersome after sharing body heat for so long.

“Yeah…” Sam is mesmerized by him, cataloging his features quickly and filing them away. As soon as he’s done, he turns to Dean with pity in his eyes.

“Dean, I know you’ve got to be reeling right now. Can I drive you home?”

He looks horrified when Dean merely nods his agreement and looks away from them both.

“Is he going to be okay?” Jimmy asks quietly.

“This is… bizarre. I’m not going to lie. Cas’s death just about took them both. I can’t even predict how he’s going to handle it.”

“Can I give you my card? If Dean wants to talk, or you need something, anything, please call me.” Jimmy is desperate to wrap a tether to Dean’s brother, give them some way to keep in touch. He just can’t let this be the last time they see each other.

“I can’t promise that he will, but I appreciate the gesture.” Sam turns to Dean, who seems to be staring off in the distance, tired and broken. He gathers his brother up, speaking quietly to him. Before they get a dozen steps away, Dean turns.

“Thank you, Jimmy.”

He nods in return and watches the two men disappear around the corner. His head is pounding and his nerves feel like they’ve been run up a flag pole and left out in a hurricane. He was going to head straight home, but now he isn’t sure that’s where he wants to be. Ducking into the restaurant Dean emerged from, he sits at the bar and orders something that he wouldn’t have thought about in a million years. “Bourbon, neat.”


	2. We're On To Them

Sam had been willing to let Dean push through this obstacle on his own. After all, he’s a grown man and a former soldier no less. But after two weeks, he isn’t seeing any signs that Dean is going to let this thing with Jimmy go.

At first, he handled the situation like a typical Winchester. Drink away your troubles and don’t acknowledge them no matter what anyone says. That had been fine for the first couple of days because it was exactly what Sam expected from his older brother. Then, he started googling everything he could find about Jimmy Novak. Stalker-ish, but still not harming anybody. Sam was certain that seeing proof that Jimmy was not Cas would maybe even help him move on. No dice.

Dean hadn’t liked that there weren’t any wedding pictures of Jimmy and his wife posted. Not even on the Facebook account that he had found. There weren’t any pictures of them together at all. In fact, Amelia Novak’s Facebook page was private and locked down fairly tight. Suddenly, finding out everything he could about Jimmy became a full blown obsession for Dean. 

Sam usually spends Sundays at his brother’s apartment. They watch whatever game is on, eat some junk food, and catch up. Over the past couple of weeks, his visits have become more and more frequent. Frankly, Dean is scaring the shit out of him, and he doesn’t want him to feel like he doesn’t have support.

He keeps trying to put himself in Dean’s shoes. How would he feel if he lost the love of his life after years of being together? It must be the worst kind of loss. The brothers watched the aftermath of what their mother’s death did to their dad, so he had some idea of how debilitating it could be. He just didn’t want that for Dean. Of course he didn’t. If he could help in some way, if he could keep Dean from tumbling into the abyss, he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

So, here he is on a Tuesday night, knocking on Dean’s door and hoping like hell to see some improvement. When Dean rips the door open, his heart sinks. Dean is still wearing the same clothes he was wearing on Sunday. His hair is greasy and sticking out everywhere. His eyes are sunken and dark-shadowed. He still isn’t eating, he’d guess.

“Sam?” 

“Hey, Dean. I wanted to see if you’re hungry.”

“I…I’m really busy.”

Sam pushes into the apartment, maintaining the chipper banter. “I thought maybe we could order a pizza and watch the Kings game?”

“Sam, now isn’t really a good time. Could I take a rain check?”

“Come on, Dean. It took me almost an hour to get here.”

Dean purses his lips. He’s torn, but Sam pulls out the big guns. He lifts his brows and gives his older brother the most ridiculous puppy eyes he’s ever been able to manage. Dean rolls his eyes and shuts the door. 

“Fine, but we’re ordering from DaVinci’s not that nasty chain place.” 

Sam laughs and goes to Dean’s kitchen to pull the menu out of his take out drawer. What he sees spread out on the table chills the mood considerably. He looks over all of the folders, documents, and notes without touching anything. There’s a folder for everything. For Cas’s death, for Jimmy Novak, for Amelia Novak. He even has files for a place in Illinois he’s never heard of, and one for UC Berkeley. There’s a map of Pasadena that’s drawn over with lots of different marks. On top of it all is a timeline in Dean’s neat block lettering.

“What’s taking so long?”

Sam looks up just as Dean sees him. They stare, at an impasse. Dean doesn’t want to talk about this, and Sam can’t just let it go.

“Dude, are you stalking this guy?”

Nervously, Dean huffs and opens the refrigerator. “No. I’m investigating. I’m a P.I., remember?”

“Dean, clients pay you to investigate. I doubt Jimmy asked you to violate his privacy.”

Slamming the fridge door a little more forcefully than necessary, Dean glares at his brother. “Look, Sam. Some parts of his story just didn’t add up. I just want to make sure that he is who he says he is.”

“You mean, you want to prove that he’s actually Cas.”

“Don’t you fucking say his name.” Dean trips from annoyed to rage like a switch was flipped. Dean’s always been a hothead, but this is a truly unstable reaction. Sam takes a step back involuntarily. 

Seeing it, Dean hangs his head in shame. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Without another word, Dean sets a beer down in front of Sam and wanders back to the living room. They don’t talk about the huge hulking elephant in the room until the pizza arrives and they’ve demolished most of it. When Dean settles back into his chair, Sam finally broaches the subject.

“Hey, I know that Jimmy freaked you out. Seeing him made my own heart try to jump out of my chest. I can’t imagine how torqued up that made you.”

Dean nods slowly, listening. 

“What is it that you’re investigating, Dean? Why do you still think he could be Cas? Don’t you think he would have let you know that he wasn’t dead? Don’t you think Cas would have done anything to find you?”

“My Cas? Yes. But he doesn’t know. Somehow, he forgot who he is.”

“Dean. Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Don’t give me that pitying tone, Sam. God damn it. This is exactly why I don’t talk about him.” Dean jumps up and stalks into the kitchen.

Sam is about to follow when Dean returns. He sits down next to Sam on the couch and slaps a stack of papers down. One by one, he opens them and shows Sam what he’s found.

“Jimmy Novak never lived in Illinois. There aren’t records of any Novak family ever living in Pontiac, which is where he said he grew up. His hometown was a lie, and I couldn’t find a birth certificate of any James or Jimmy Novak being born there.”

Sam has to admit, that is a pretty big hole in Jimmy’s story. Dean moves on to the next folder. “He told me that he went to UC Berkeley. Also a lie. I checked student records. He never attended the school. In fact, there hasn’t been a James or Jimmy Novak that attended the school since 1973. Considering his age, I doubt that’s the same guy.”

The more Dean talks, the less crazy he sounds. This really could be something. 

“Also, I found a Facebook page for Jimmy. It started less than two years ago. It talks about his recovery from an accident he had, and there are a bunch of people from his job on it, but no family and no friends before this job. Not a single picture of him and his wife. I thought that was odd, so I looked into their marriage. There isn’t a marriage license on file for them in this county or any other in California.”

Sam looks up at Dean, gobsmacked. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah. Holy shit is right. This is just the obvious stuff. There are so many loose ends and questionable fucking gaps in Cas’s story that it would take another hour to go through.”

“You looked into his death?”

Dean swallows hard and nods. 

“There weren’t any pictures, were there?” Sam feels morbid just asking the question. But he has to know how bad it was. He has to know how much this could have messed Dean up.

“No, there weren’t any pictures. There wasn’t anything but a death certificate and a toxicology report. I found out that the doctor that signed the certificate is an Army doctor who doesn’t have privileges anywhere in the county, and the toxicology report didn’t have his full name. It just said C. Milton.”

“That doesn’t mean that it isn’t-”

“I know. He still might be…gone. I just can’t not look into it. I have to know, without a doubt, if this guy is Cas.”

Sam straightens his posture, looking Dean in the eye with a proud smile. “Alright. What can I do to help?”

“You still have Jimmy’s card? I’d like to meet with him.”

  
  


Sam had been willing to let Dean push through this obstacle on his own. After all, he’s a grown man and a former soldier no less. But after two weeks, he isn’t seeing any signs that Dean is going to let this thing with Jimmy go.

At first, he handled the situation like a typical Winchester. Drink away your troubles and don’t acknowledge them no matter what anyone says. That had been fine for the first couple of days because it was exactly what Sam expected from his older brother. Then, he started googling everything he could find about Jimmy Novak. Stalker-ish, but still not harming anybody. Sam was certain that seeing proof that Jimmy was not Cas would maybe even help him move on. No dice.

Dean hadn’t liked that there weren’t any wedding pictures of Jimmy and his wife posted. Not even on the Facebook account that he had found. There weren’t any pictures of them together at all. In fact, Amelia Novak’s Facebook page was private and locked down fairly tight. Suddenly, finding out everything he could about Jimmy became a full blown obsession for Dean. 

Sam usually spends Sundays at his brother’s apartment. They watch whatever game is on, eat some junk food, and catch up. Over the past couple of weeks, his visits have become more and more frequent. Frankly, Dean is scaring the shit out of him, and he doesn’t want him to feel like he doesn’t have support.

He keeps trying to put himself in Dean’s shoes. How would he feel if he lost the love of his life after years of being together? It must be the worst kind of loss. The brothers watched the aftermath of what their mother’s death did to their dad, so he had some idea of how debilitating it could be. He just didn’t want that for Dean. Of course he didn’t. If he could help in some way, if he could keep Dean from tumbling into the abyss, he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

So, here he is on a Tuesday night, knocking on Dean’s door and hoping like hell to see some improvement. When Dean rips the door open, his heart sinks. Dean is still wearing the same clothes he was wearing on Sunday. His hair is greasy and sticking out everywhere. His eyes are sunken and dark-shadowed. He still isn’t eating, he’d guess.

“Sam?” 

“Hey, Dean. I wanted to see if you’re hungry.”

“I…I’m really busy.”

Sam pushes into the apartment, maintaining the chipper banter. “I thought maybe we could order a pizza and watch the Kings game?”

“Sam, now isn’t really a good time. Could I take a rain check?”

“Come on, Dean. It took me almost an hour to get here.”

Dean purses his lips. He’s torn, but Sam pulls out the big guns. He lifts his brows and gives his older brother the most ridiculous puppy eyes he’s ever been able to manage. Dean rolls his eyes and shuts the door. 

“Fine, but we’re ordering from DaVinci’s not that nasty chain place.” 

Sam laughs and goes to Dean’s kitchen to pull the menu out of his take out drawer. What he sees spread out on the table chills the mood considerably. He looks over all of the folders, documents, and notes without touching anything. There’s a folder for everything. For Cas’s death, for Jimmy Novak, for Amelia Novak. He even has files for a place in Illinois he’s never heard of, and one for UC Berkeley. There’s a map of Pasadena that’s drawn over with lots of different marks. On top of it all is a timeline in Dean’s neat block lettering.

“What’s taking so long?”

Sam looks up just as Dean sees him. They stare, at an impasse. Dean doesn’t want to talk about this, and Sam can’t just let it go.

“Dude, are you stalking this guy?”

Nervously, Dean huffs and opens the refrigerator. “No. I’m investigating. I’m a P.I., remember?”

“Dean, clients pay you to investigate. I doubt Jimmy asked you to violate his privacy.”

Slamming the fridge door a little more forcefully than necessary, Dean glares at his brother. “Look, Sam. Some parts of his story just didn’t add up. I just want to make sure that he is who he says he is.”

“You mean, you want to prove that he’s actually Cas.”

“Don’t you fucking say his name.” Dean trips from annoyed to rage like a switch was flipped. Dean’s always been a hothead, but this is a truly unstable reaction. Sam takes a step back involuntarily. 

Seeing it, Dean hangs his head in shame. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Without another word, Dean sets a beer down in front of Sam and wanders back to the living room. They don’t talk about the huge hulking elephant in the room until the pizza arrives and they’ve demolished most of it. When Dean settles back into his chair, Sam finally broaches the subject.

“Hey, I know that Jimmy freaked you out. Seeing him made my own heart try to jump out of my chest. I can’t imagine how torqued up that made you.”

Dean nods slowly, listening. 

“What is it that you’re investigating, Dean? Why do you still think he could be Cas? Don’t you think he would have let you know that he wasn’t dead? Don’t you think Cas would have done anything to find you?”

“My Cas? Yes. But he doesn’t know. Somehow, he forgot who he is.”

“Dean. Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Don’t give me that pitying tone, Sam. God damn it. This is exactly why I don’t talk about him.” Dean jumps up and stalks into the kitchen.

Sam is about to follow when Dean returns. He sits down next to Sam on the couch and slaps a stack of papers down. One by one, he opens them and shows Sam what he’s found.

“Jimmy Novak never lived in Illinois. There aren’t records of any Novak family ever living in Pontiac, which is where he said he grew up. His hometown was a lie, and I couldn’t find a birth certificate of any James or Jimmy Novak being born there.”

Sam has to admit, that is a pretty big hole in Jimmy’s story. Dean moves on to the next folder. “He told me that he went to UC Berkeley. Also a lie. I checked student records. He never attended the school. In fact, there hasn’t been a James or Jimmy Novak that attended the school since 1973. Considering his age, I doubt that’s the same guy.”

The more Dean talks, the less crazy he sounds. This really could be something. 

“Also, I found a Facebook page for Jimmy. It started less than two years ago. It talks about his recovery from an accident he had, and there are a bunch of people from his job on it, but no family and no friends before this job. Not a single picture of him and his wife. I thought that was odd, so I looked into their marriage. There isn’t a marriage license on file for them in this county or any other in California.”

Sam looks up at Dean, gobsmacked. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah. Holy shit is right. This is just the obvious stuff. There are so many loose ends and questionable fucking gaps in Cas’s story that it would take another hour to go through.”

“You looked into his death?”

Dean swallows hard and nods. 

“There weren’t any pictures, were there?” Sam feels morbid just asking the question. But he has to know how bad it was. He has to know how much this could have messed Dean up.

“No, there weren’t any pictures. There wasn’t anything but a death certificate and a toxicology report. I found out that the doctor that signed the certificate is an Army doctor who doesn’t have privileges anywhere in the county, and the toxicology report didn’t have his full name. It just said C. Milton.”

“That doesn’t mean that it isn’t-”

“I know. He still might be…gone. I just can’t not look into it. I have to know, without a doubt, if this guy is Cas.”

Sam straightens his posture, looking Dean in the eye with a proud smile. “Alright. What can I do to help?”

“You still have Jimmy’s card? I’d like to meet with him.”

  
  


  
  


Jimmy knows that he shouldn’t be meeting with Dean. The poor man is grieving, and it can’t be helping him to keep seeing his boyfriend’s face. Plus, his brother said that he was having trouble sleeping and he was obsessed with finding Cas. It sounds like Dean is delusional, and Jimmy is playing into his fantasies. Somehow, though, he feels responsible. Dean wasn’t unhinged before he met Jimmy. Sam had told him that he has been very quiet and reserved since returning from his military tour, but seemed to be focused and quite determined to build a new life.

Yet, despite all of that, here he is, waiting for Dean to arrive at the little cafe he likes to go to when he has time for lunch. It’s near his office building, and their tea is wonderful. 

When the door opens and Dean steps through, his heart gallops. He tells himself that it’s just nerves. The last time they spoke, Dean was an emotional wreck, and Jimmy doesn’t really know what to expect this time. They are in public, so it makes sense that he would be quite anxious in this situation. 

Dean nods at him and makes his way to the table, never once taking his eyes off of Cas. Damn it. Jimmy. 

“Thanks for meeting me.”

“It’s my honor, Dean. How are you?”

“Good. Busy.”

Dean sits and orders black coffee when the waitress arrives. He glances over at Jimmy’s cup with a fond smile.

“What is it?”

Dean waves off the question with a smile. “First of all, I want to thank you for how you handled my breakdown. You were exceedingly kind to a stranger who really needed it.”

“It was no problem, Dean. I couldn’t have walked away and left you so distraught.”

Dean flips the menu to the back and grins. “I’m going straight for dessert.”

“Not worried about your figure?” Jimmy teases. One look at Dean’s body is enough to know that the man has nothing to worry about. He’s fit and in his prime; a perfect masculine specimen.

“Nah, life’s too short, Jimmy.”

After they order, they settle into polite chit chat. Dean tells him a little bit about his new business and how he and Sam are reconnecting after four years apart. Jimmy tells him about a project he is working on at work. They are a practical application lab that specializes in synthetic compounds. He’s working on a water and sweat-proof mosquito repellent that isn’t toxic.

When Dean’s plate arrives, Jimmy is jealous. His warm apple pie is melting the scoop of vanilla ice cream so that it is pooling in each of the indentations in the latticework. It’s dribbling down the sides like a cool, sweet, waterfall.

“You should have ordered the pie, Jim.” Dean teases, flicking eyes up to meet his. 

“You’re right. It smells heavenly.”

Dean takes a bite and sighs. “Nothing better,” he claims and slides the plate towards Jimmy. He tries to deny wanting a bite, but Dean calls him out with a lift of his brow. Jimmy surrenders to the siren call of sugar, enjoying every second of the vanilla, apple, cinnamon, and butter. He chews slowly, savoring the taste. He only allows himself the single bite. 

While Jimmy eats his sandwich, he enjoys Dean’s reactions more than the food. As soon as Dean’s plate is clean, his relaxed demeanor changes. 

“There are a few things I wanted to discuss with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.”

“Will you promise me to keep an open mind? Some things I want to discuss might sound a little personal, but I swear I have valid reasons that I’ll explain.”

“O-kay.” Jimmy frowns; Dean is starting to worry him.

“You told me that you grew up in Pontiac, Illinois.”

“Yes. I grew up with my family there.”

“And you have always been named James Novak? No other names?”

“Yes, that’s my name. What is this about, Dean?”

Dean leans back in his seat, studying Jimmy across the table. Running a hand over his jaw, he leans down to pull a file out of his messenger bag. “This is where it’s getting a little personal, so I don’t want you to freak out. Okay? I was really hurting after we met, and I started digging into Cas’s death. I found a lot of discrepancies, which made me look into you, too.”

“You what?” Jimmy is aware that he said that entirely too loudly. Several heads swivel in his direction, so he leans over the table and speaks softer if no less intensely. “Who gave you the right to snoop into my personal life?”

“I know you’re upset, but please listen to what I’m saying. I looked into what you told me about yourself because I had this feeling that the lack of closure, of any real evidence of Cas’s death, had something to do with you.”

“This is a complete invasion of privacy, Dean.” Jimmy is working up a full head of steam.

“Hey, stop for a second.” He purses his lips, but does as Dean asks.

“Aren’t you curious about what I found?”

Talk about dangling an impossible to resist carrot. After a long moment of sustained eye contact, he nods curtly.

“There is no record of a James or Jimmy Novak ever being born in Pontiac or the surrounding counties.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I thought so, too, which is why I called each department personally and asked them to double-check their hard copies. When nothing turned up there, I asked them if they had ever sustained water or fire damage that could account for missing records. They all denied any such damage.”

“You must have missed something. This has to be a mistake.”

“It could be. I’m not infallible. But, remember that I spent four years as an Army Intelligence Officer, and I have my P.I. license. I do these types of searches all the time. I know how these offices are set up and what red tape I have to wade through.”

Jimmy is silent for a moment and looks at the documents that Dean slides over. They are official searches that show the lack of records in his name on the county letterhead. He’s stymied. Did his parents never get a birth certificate for him? No. That’s impossible. He wouldn’t have been able to attend school or get a driver’s license without that documentation.

“What do you remember about Pontiac?”

“I don’t,” is his simple reply. 

“What do you mean, you don’t?”

Jimmy sees the flicker of hope there, and he doesn’t want to fan the flames. It’s why he hasn’t brought this up before now. He’s going to have to come clean, though.

“I was in an accident a little under two years ago. I cracked my skull on the dashboard, and it has affected my memory.”

Dean’s brows raise comically. 

“Don’t read more into it than is there, Dean.”

“Okay. I won’t.” He says with placating hands. “For now. There’s more, though.” Jimmy looks up at him, confusion clear in his blue eyes.

“Should we wait for another time?” Dean asks gently.

“No, go ahead. I’m already overwhelmed.” Jimmy sits back, hands braced on the edge of the table.

“That led me to look up your time at Berkeley, because that was something else you told me that night.”

“Let me guess? No records there, either?”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

Jimmy scoffs and takes a sip of his tea with hands that have started to tremble. “I could see the writing on the wall.”

Dean smiles at the snarky asshole comment. It’s so much like Cas that he actually feels a little tenderhearted at hearing it.

“What?”

“Nothing, Jim.” Dean slides his folder over and sees the transcript request from Berkeley that ended in only one result from about thirty years too early. He considers the man in front of him warily. 

“What is it you want me to do with this information, Dean? What are you hoping to get out of this?”

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Dean chuckles, but there’s nothing but sadness in it. “I’m hoping that you’ll be curious enough to investigate for yourself. I’m hoping that you’ll go home and look through your things and find your important documents. I really hope that you’ll ask yourself some probing questions.”

“Like what?”

“Like, why don’t I have childhood or college friends on my Facebook page? Why aren’t there any pictures of my wife online? Why don’t I have a marriage license?”

Jimmy feels like he’s suffocating. Every word out of Dean’s mouth mirrors thoughts that he himself has thought. Being backed into this corner makes him want to come out swinging, though. He feels an instinctive need to protect himself from this man who is peeling back the layers of his life without invitation. “This is getting too invasive now, Dean.”

“I know it feels that way, especially because you don’t know me. Please trust that I was digging into your past for your protection. Something isn’t right here, and I want you to be safe. That’s all.”

“And this has nothing to do with wanting me to be Cas?”

Dean closes his eyes and takes a calming breath. “I want you to be whoever you are. If you’re Jimmy Novak and these are all really strange mishaps, great. If it turns out that someone has lied to you, I want you to find that out. If it turns out that you are Cas and someone faked your death, wouldn’t you want to know?”

Jimmy’s head is pounding, a true migraine if he has ever felt one. Making his apologies, he stands and almost runs out of the cafe, leaving Dean sitting there alone.

  
  


In his car, Jimmy punches the button to turn off the radio, incapable of hearing any more than the necessary sounds of the road right now. He slips on his sunglasses, despite the overcast sky. After speaking with his office to call out for the rest of the day, he settles into highway traffic. The monotony gives him time to think, which is a complete disaster for his aching brain.

He isn’t sure now why he thought that Dean was going to be delusional, but he’d have preferred it to the sharp intelligence that had pierced into all of his dark places. He’d had so many questions when he’d woken up in the hospital all those long months ago. He’d wondered why he couldn’t remember anything about his past at all, why Amelia was a stranger to him. If he had married someone, wouldn’t they be familiar even with an impaired memory? Wouldn’t the years together make enough of an impression to make him feel…something?

When she had brought him home, he’d asked to look at their pictures to see if it brought back something, anything. She told him that their wedding photographer had had a camera malfunction, losing all of those photos. He’d accepted that, but then she told him that there was a fire in his childhood home, so he didn’t have any of those photos, either. Again, it seemed unfortunate, but not implausible. 

In light of the many things that Dean told him this afternoon, he feels rather foolish for accepting so many gaps in his story without the least bit of fight. Setting his jaw, he focuses on getting home and finding some answers.

When Amelia arrives home, she finds him sitting in the dining room surrounded by the only boxes that he could find in the entire house. The attic is pristine, the garage contains only tools and some basic sports equipment. No wonder this house has never felt like home. Aside from his clothes, there isn’t a single bit of evidence that he lives there.

“Jimmy, dear. What are you doing?” Her eyes contain more than surprise. They contain fear.

“I was looking for my birth certificate and important documents. I couldn’t find any of it. Do I not have a passport?”

Nervous laughter accompanies her eyes darting away. “We keep all of those things in a safe deposit box, remember?”

“No, Amelia. I don’t remember. That’s exactly the problem.”

He’s never raised his voice at her, never showed any temper at all. He feels like a complete dick when she shrinks back from the doorway.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay. I just really need to find some documentation, and this is frustrating.”

“Sure. I understand. I’ll go get dinner started.”

Scratching the back of his head, he continues his search. He isn’t even sure what he’s looking for at this point. Old snapshots from Berkeley, a stray report card, a forgotten textbook, a birthday card from a friend…any shred of proof that he exists. Running out of places to search, he turns to social media.

He’s vaguely nauseated thinking that Dean has looked into his life more thoroughly than he has, but strangely, he isn’t bothered by it. Despite his protests earlier, knowing that Dean has been checking into his life feels protective, not invasive. He’s content knowing that this very capable man is looking out for him. There’s a little red flag waving at him from the recesses of his mind, worried that he is simply following the same path he did with Amelia. 

Is he letting Dean lead him astray? Could he have some ulterior motive for convincing Jimmy that he is someone else? Could he be falsifying documents to back up his story? Jimmy shakes his head and continues his quest. That’s the thing about Dean. Jimmy trusts him. He isn’t sure if it’s due to the ridiculous charisma the man possesses, or if it’s something else. Whatever it is, he hasn’t proven himself false yet. Jimmy will be wary, but open to whatever Dean has to say.

Biting his lip, he debates doing a little digging into Dean’s life. He feels a little nagging guilt, but he rationalizes that turnabout is fair play. To his surprise, there doesn’t appear to be a Facebook profile for this Dean Winchester. Knowing his younger brother, he’d bet that Sam does. With a few more clicks, he finds a goldmine of information. Sam has a very active social life, according to the number of friends, posts, and comments. While almost all of the pictures are of various young men wearing Greek letters and young women wearing their own, there are some of Dean. They are mostly within the past year, and Jimmy feels like he can feel an almost palpable sadness coming from them.

There is one photo of Dean in his Army uniform, something that Jimmy shouldn’t find nearly as impressive as he does. He zooms in on the bars and medals on his chest, running a finger over them. He smiles and goes back to Sam’s posted pictures. He notices one post that repeats on the same day every year. It’s a stylized black rose with the words, “I will miss you forever, my brother. Castiel Milton”

Jimmy swallows hard around the lump in his throat. It’s a simple tribute, but obviously done with the intention of memorializing someone he’d thought of as family. There’s a surge of his earlier headache, but he keeps scrolling. Going back over five years, Jimmy stumbles on several pictures that make him gasp. 

These pictures are unfamiliar, but they really could be of him. Every feature is an exact mirror of his own. The man staring back at him is smiling with such joy that he finds himself burning with envy, even knowing that he’s dead. He thumbs through the pictures, one after the other of his doppelganger and Dean as they are smiling and laughing. In one, their lips are touching, but the kiss isn’t quite happening because they can’t stop smiling. 

Has he ever been that happy? With a frown he realizes that he can’t remember a time when he’s smiled like that.

“Jimmy, hon? Dinner is ready.”

Exiting out of the app, Jimmy goes to the table. 

  
  


  
  


In his new office, Dean is working on some budgeting for his fledgling business. He’s made a name for himself with the local police department as someone who works honestly and stays out of their way. Most of the leads he receives are either passed on to those the police can’t help or word of mouth. He has a website, but it might as well be a yellow pages ad for all the information it contains.

When the front door opens, it takes him by surprise. Sure that it is a solicitation call, he sighs and goes to greet his unwanted guest. With a gruff, “Can I help you?” he leans against the front counter. The man sizing up his lounge has a snake-like smile and beady eyes. He’s tall, muscular, but older than Dean by at least 20 years.

“Well, son, I think you might be able to help me. I heard that you have a new friend. I’m curious about your interest in him.”

Dean narrows his gaze, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure why that’s any business of yours.”

The smarmy grin gets wider as he steps closer. “Well, it’s of interest to my employer, who is also your friend’s employer.”

“I don’t have any friends, so I’m afraid that you’ve received some bad intel.”

“Novak. James Novak.” There’s something biting in the way he says it. Dean’s lip curls in warning. He doesn’t like hearing that name come from this man’s mouth.

“He’s a client.”

“Now, Mr. Winchester. I do believe that’s a lie.”

Turning on his false charm, Dean flashes a brilliant grin. “Not that I give a shit about what you think, but you can report back to your master that my interest in Jimmy Novak extends to the end of my contract with him, and then he will be forgotten.”

“Why did he hire you?”

“That’s between us. If you’d like to know, I suggest you ask him.”

“Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that.” The promise is a veiled threat that makes Dean’s skin itch.

The standoff goes on for too long, but Dean isn’t going to let him intimidate him in his own place of business. When he finally nods and turns to leave, he throws out the advice, “You might reconsider that contract with Novak. It’s bound to cause all kinds of trouble for you.”

Dean braces his arms on the counter, anger and the desire to act making his pulse jump. Storming back to his desk, he picks up his phone. 

“Charlie?”

“Hey there, Dean.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

Dean quirks a little grin. She was one of his first clients, and they have become fast friends. She’s a confirmed geek with a bubbly personality, but despite all of her dramatic antics, he adores her.

“I need you to look at my security footage from the past few minutes and see if you can ID the guy who was in here. He issued some not so veiled threats to leave that guy Jimmy alone, and I want to know who he is.”

“The one you think might be Cas?”

“Yeah, one and the same.”

“You’re not going to do anything moronic with the information I give you, right?”

“No.” Dean scrunches his face up defensively. 

With a sigh, she commands, “Promise me.”

“I promise. I’m not about to do anything that might get Jimmy hurt.”

“Okay, I’ll call you as soon as I have the skinny.”

  
  


Jimmy is out on his back deck thinking when the call comes through. He doesn’t recognize the number, but normal telemarketing calls don’t extend this late in the evening. Answering the call, he is surprised to hear Dean’s voice.

“I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“It’s no problem, but is this a new phone number?”

“No, I’m calling from a burner phone because I didn’t want it tracked back to you.”

“Why?” He drags the question out, his sense of unease creeping back to cover him like a blanket.

“Look, I know that sounds paranoid as hell. This whole thing sounds insane.”

“What thing?”

“This afternoon, a man came to my office asking about you. He said that his employer wanted to know what business I had with you.”

“Who is his employer?”

“Apparently yours.”

“What?”

“I know. It doesn’t make sense. But, it gets worse.”

Jimmy sighs and tips his head back. “Okay.”

“This guy is a ghost. I had a brilliant hacker look for him, and he isn’t in any database that we can find. Would you look at a picture of him? See if he looks familiar?”

“Sure.”

Jimmy hears the ding notification of an incoming text and opens it. The picture is black and white and somewhat grainy, but he easily recognizes the man. “This is Hank. He works for my boss, Zachariah.”

“Hank? Last name?”

“Azazel.”

Jimmy waits while he hears keys tapping through their connection. 

“Jim, this guy is dangerous.”

“He works in a pharmaceutical research company, Dean. How dangerous can he possibly be?”

“Even if you don’t believe me, even if you never take my calls again, please, please be careful. This guy doesn’t exist on paper.”

“That’s ridiculous. Everyone leaves some kind of digital trail.”

“Which is what makes this so dangerous. Trust me, Jimmy. If he’s taken such precautions, it’s for a very illegal reason.”

Without another reason to stay on the phone, Dean says goodbye.

  
  


  
  


Dean turns down a new contract the following morning because it would require too much of his time, and right now Jimmy is his priority. Figuring out who this Azazel person really is and what his connection is to Jimmy is the first step. Part of his brain is screaming at him to be reasonable. The contract would pay his bills for a couple of months, but he honestly wouldn’t be able to give it his full concentration. 

Part of his brain might be calling him irresponsible, but the rest of it is in full panic mode. He knows with every ounce of his soul that Jimmy is really Castiel. Somehow, someway, his lost love is alive. He isn’t going to take any risks that something could happen to him before they solve the mystery.

Which is why he’s on another stakeout, this time in front of Jimmy’s office building. He’s not here for Jimmy, though, so he doesn’t feel the creeping shame that he would if he were borderline stalking him. It’s close to the end of the work day, so he’s waiting for the ghost, so he can follow him and pick up any kind of viable intel. He’s been there for over an hour when the familiar, raven chaos of hair fills his binoculars. Dean can’t help but smile. 

Jimmy might not be his target, but he can’t help watching. His walk is identical to Cas’s, and it brings about the anguish he feels whenever he thinks of what has been taken from him. Dean should be walking by his side, listening to him go on about something that he found particularly fascinating in his lab. He should be staring into those deep ocean blues, letting them fill him with peace. 

Instead, he’s watching Jimmy obliviously lead a tail wherever he is going. Sitting up straighter, Dean zooms out a bit and watches. When Jimmy turns to the right, so does the man following him. Shit.

Picking up his phone, he texts Jimmy, telling him to duck into the coffee shop around the corner. Quickly, he drives around the block to enter the parking lot behind the shop. Coming in the back way, he sees Jimmy sitting at a table, looking around anxiously.

“Dean, what are you doing here?” Jimmy looks like he wants to be happy to see Dean, but his suspicions are just too great.

“I was watching for that Azazel to come out of the building so I could track him. I need to figure out who he is and what he’s up to.”

“Then why are we here?” That head tilt of confusion makes him want to lean over and plant a lingering kiss on those pillowy lips that he hasn’t tasted in years. It would be a tremendously bad idea, though. For one thing, Jimmy isn’t sure if he trusts Dean yet. It must seem to him that Dean is everywhere all of a sudden, which must be tripping all kinds of alarms.

“I saw you leave the building, and you weren’t alone.”

“No, many people leave at about this time every day.” 

“I mean that you were being followed.”

“By who?”

Looking into the front of the café, Dean sees the tail leaning against the pillar of the entryway. He leans his phone out into the aisle without moving his body. When he’s sure he has a good view, he takes a picture and hands the phone to Jimmy.

“I don’t know him. I’ve never seen this man before.”

“So he’s outside staff.”

“Outside…what do you mean?” Jimmy’s eyes have gone wide, his breathing erratic. He tries to turn his head, but Dean stops him by tugging on his hand.

“Hey. Breathe. He doesn’t know anything. He can’t suspect anything yet. We have time to get away without him catching on. Okay?”

Jimmy just nods unconvincingly. Dean squeezes the hand that is gripping his. “Let’s go. Out the back.”

  
  


Dean lets him sit quietly on the ride home, speaking only to give him directions. Pulling up in front of the cookie cutter house makes him question whether or not this really is Cas. There’s no way he would have moved to such a boring place willingly. He has always been against HOAs and master planned communities. He doesn’t think that they have any charm or soul. Cas thinks that a house should be filled by joy and laughter, that the quirks of unique spaces help create a home. 

“Um. Nice place.”

Jimmy gives him a noncommittal shrug.

Turning off the car, he gives the other man his focus. “Jimmy, look. I know I’m throwing a lot at you, and you’re probably thinking that I could be making this shit up.”

With a huffed laugh, he admits, “The thought had crossed my mind.”

“Of course it has. You’re a smart man, and this situation seems surreal. I promise you, though. I’m not creating any of this. I’m just pointing it out.”

Jimmy stares into his eyes, and Dean’s heart begs his arms to pull him in and console him. He can’t. He can’t scare him off. He could be in real danger and Dean can’t get sidelined before he can figure it out.

“I want to trust you, Dean. I really do.”

“I get it. I completely understand. I’d like to do something that I hope might help you understand that I’m not the threat.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’d like to sweep your house for bugs.”

“You think someone bugged my house?”

“Probably not. Hopefully not, but I don’t want to leave it to chance. So, if you’ll let me…”

Jimmy nods and Dean pats him on the leg. “Okay, let’s get down to business.”

As Jimmy watches with that adorable little head tilt, Dean opens the trunk, pulls on coveralls from an exterminator company and grabs a tool bag. When he makes his way to the front door, he realizes that he lost the other man along the way. Jimmy is still leaning against his beautiful car, watching him. 

“What?”

“You want to exterminate my house? I thought you meant-”

With a cheeky grin, Dean interrupts, “I meant look for listening devices and cameras. In case someone is listening or watching, though, an exterminator digging around in corners with flashlights doesn’t raise as much suspicion.”

Jimmy chuckles and continues to the door. Once it’s open, he gestures for Dean to enter. “That’s very clever. Nice word play.”

“Why, thank you.” Dean says with half-lidded eyes as he walks past him. 

It’s flirty and decidedly not the right tone to strike with Jimmy, but Dean can’t help but love the squirmy little blush his words cause. The house might not be what Cas would pick, but that reaction is all him. 

When Dean steps inside, he’s immediately confronted by a very feminine presence. That fizzy feeling in his belly falls flat and turns sour. Jimmy is married. Instead of turning betrayed eyes on him, Dean locks down his emotions and slides his professional mask of indifference on. 

“Well, Mr. Novak, I think it would be best to start in one corner and work our way around. Can you stick with me so I can show you any problem spots?”

Jimmy squints at him and finally catches on. “Uh, sure.”

They take a slow path around the house, looking in and under furniture. Dean keeps up a steady babble of insect and rodent related information as they search. Jimmy isn’t sure why until he shows him the underside of a lamp. There’s definitely a small electronic device hidden there. 

“See these wires? The little nibble marks? You’ve got mice.” They make significant eye contact as Dean sets the lamp down. Already, he can see the worry crease Jimmy’s brow. 

“What do I do?” he asks when Dean prompts him to respond. 

“Well, let’s keep looking and we’ll decide that once we see the extent of the damage.” Jimmy looks vaguely nauseated, but Dean setting a friendly hand on his shoulder seems to help. “It’s okay, Mr. Novak. I’ll take care of this problem for you. It will all be as good as new when I’m done.”

All in all, Dean finds two cameras and multiple listening devices. By the time they are back in the living room, they are both incredibly tense, and Jimmy is close to hyperventilating. “Let me just write up this estimate, and we can go from there.” 

Dean takes a professional-looking clip board out of his bag and writes on the top page. He slides it to Jimmy. It reads, “Ask me to look in the back yard.”

Jimmy follows his direction, and they meet at the far side of the fenced yard. 

“Okay, we can talk here. They aren’t going to bug the perimeter,” Dean assures him.

“What the fuck is going on? Who is doing this to me?” Jimmy is close to having a panic attack. 

With a calming hand on his shoulder, Dean tells him that he doesn’t know. Yet.

“Well, get rid of them.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

“If I get rid of the bugs and the cameras, they’ll know that you’re on to them. We won’t have time to find out the answers to your questions.”

“So I have to just sit here and live my life with them watching me?”

“I’m afraid so. Hopefully, not for long, though.”

Jimmy is pacing back and forth, agitated. “This fucking sucks.”

“I know. I can only imagine how you’re feeling right now. So, what do you want to do?”

  
  



	3. Catch Us If You Can

Dean wants to remove every single one of the bugs in Jimmy’s house, give him the privacy and peace of mind that he’s missing. If they want answers, though, they’re going to have to bide their time. Because of his training, Dean is used to working in environments where he knows he’s being watched and listened to. Jimmy isn’t. The strain of it is showing. 

He’s been here at Jimmy’s house for a couple of hours now under the guise of doing the extermination. Jimmy stayed home from work so that he could have access to the house, which is also a ruse. He’s actually using the time to hunt for clues as to why people are watching him. Dean’s fairly sure that it’s because of whatever took Cas away from him, but Jimmy isn’t ready to hear that yet. He’s pushing hard enough with what he is saying. Even though it seems obvious to Dean that Cas’s death was engineered and this identity of Jimmy Novak is completely fake, it’s a stretch for the other man to hear. 

It’s not that he isn’t sympathetic. He can’t imagine finding out that he isn’t who he thought he was. It must be mind-bending, and Jimmy is dealing with it quite well. But, there’s a reason that Dean was drawn to intelligence work. He’s curious, almost pathologically so. There’s no way that he would have just accepted such thinly-veiled lies. He would have dug into anything that didn’t add up, and he’s sure that he would have uncovered the truth by now. However, hindsight is perfect and real life is not, so who knows. After all, he accepted Cas’s death without question.

He isn’t sure what he’s looking for, except that there has to be a sign of Cas somewhere in this house. There’s no way that they covered his tracks that well, considering they didn’t even bother to create a viable online presence for him. Again, Dean might be reading way too much into this. Cas might still be gone, but he feels that Jimmy is his Castiel. He knows it with an instinctive certainty that can’t be explained. He knows it sounds crazy, but he’s hanging on to that glimmer of hope. It’s his life line.

Running his finger over the book titles on the office shelf, he realizes that none of Cas’s favorites are here. There’s no great literature. It’s just mostly fluffy romances, predictable spy novels, and Oprah’s book club favorites. His nose twitches with righteous prejudice. On the bottom shelf, he notices one book sticking out past the others, so he pushes it. It doesn’t give. It must be stuck on something. Pulling it from the shelf, he sees something tucked behind it. 

He pulls out a tattered, well-loved copy of Ray Bradbury’s “Illustrated Man”. It’s the same one he bought for Cas for his high school graduation. The edges of the book are yellowed from age, and it ripples where they have spilled water, coffee, and even vodka on it during their camping adventures. Between the two of them, they have read or heard every story so many times that they almost have them memorized. 

Holding the book in his hands lifts a weight he didn’t know was pushing down on his chest. This is what he’s been looking for. It’s proof that Cas and Jimmy are the same person. He remembers the inscription that he wrote inside the front cover. Hesitating to close his eyes and pray that it is there, he finally opens it. He sighs in great relief to see the careful block letters: 

“I love you more than is sane. I’ll love you longer than time. Happy Graduation, Cas. Forever Yours, Dean.”

It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and his eyes water with the sheer emotion of proving that Jimmy is his Cas. He isn’t crazy, he isn’t delusional. Cas is alive. He is transfixed.

When he lets out an agonized whimper at the thought that he’s lost five years with him, Jimmy looks up and jumps into action. “Oh, what happened? Are you okay? That must hurt. Let’s get that eye cleaned out.” 

They are both distressed enough to make an accident with chemicals seem completely believable. Dragging Dean to his feet, he takes him into the kitchen. He turns water on full blast and wets a towel, placing it over Dean’s eye. Leaning in to speak quietly, he asks what’s wrong.

Dean is in shock, still looking down at the book in his hands. He looks up at Jimmy as a fat tear falls from his eye. 

Taking the book from him like it is a precious treasure, he opens the cover. Jimmy reads the inscription and immediately, a shooting pain sears through his head. He hisses at the pain and moves his hand to cover the spot over his scar. He blinks away the pain, and he notices that Dean is looking at him differently. There is more weight to his glance, more emotion. His mouth is tipped up in a smile larger and more natural than Jimmy has seen from him. 

What is this book? Where did it come from? Jimmy knows he can’t ask the questions he needs answers to. He stares at the book cover and wills himself to remember. It’s futile, but until they can speak openly, he doesn’t know what else to do. 

Dean leans closer and asks him to meet him at a bar in Old Town Pasadena in an hour. Jimmy nods his agreement and Dean hands his towel back. He quickly finishes the fake extermination, and says his goodbyes.

There aren’t many patrons at the El Arroyo at two in the afternoon, which is good because Dean isn’t sure that he can contain his excitement. Every minute that he waits is eternal torture. Finally, Cas arrives, but he can’t get ahead of himself. Jimmy still doesn’t understand.

“Okay, explain what happened at my house. All of a sudden, you were practically weeping.”

“The book. I saw a book sticking out on your shelf, and I found this book stuffed behind it.”

“And you gave it to Cas?”

“Yeah, back in high school. Well, when he graduated.”

“And it’s significant to you, obviously.”

Dean smiles and thumbs through the pages. “Very. We used to go camping all the time. Both of our families were complete shit. Y-He just had his neglectful father, and Sam and I just had ours. Neither of them spent too much time worrying about us, so we would go off into the woods and spend entire weekends out there. We would pass our time reading and playing cards when we weren’t out exploring. This book was our favorite.”

“I don’t remember seeing it before, but we know I can’t rely on my memory.” Jimmy feels a tiny, niggling doubt that Dean could have planted the book in his house to further convince him that he is someone he wants him to be, but logically, it doesn’t add up. Dean wasn’t near his bag of tools, and there was nowhere else to hide a book. 

“You didn’t find anything else that raised a red flag?” Dean asks carefully.

Sighing, Jimmy takes another sip of his beer. “Nothing, except the complete lack of any paperwork proving who I am.”

“I hate to press the issue, but are you ready to believe me yet?”

“Other than the fact that I look like him, why do you think I’m Cas? I have my ideas, but I want to hear it from you.”

“Not just kind of like him. You look exactly like him, down to the same deep voice and same mannerisms. I’ll bet you have the same marks, too. Do you have a single dark freckle over your left nipple?”

Jimmy’s jaw drops. 

“What about a scar on your inner thigh, right about there?” Dean touches the spot briefly, but it makes Jimmy’s belly twist in an uncomfortable way. 

Pushing away the sensation, he asks, “Are you the one who’s been spying on me?”

“No! Absolutely not. I didn’t even know where you lived until two days ago.”

“But you could have found out. You’ve learned everything else about me.” Jimmy doesn’t really believe that. He feels closer to Dean than just about anyone else in his life. He knows with certainty that he wouldn’t hurt him, anyway, because he is convinced that he is his Cas. Jimmy’s just grasping at the last possible reasons that he couldn’t actually be living a life that wasn’t his. 

“Yes, I could have. But I don’t need to spy on you to know his body, Jim. I spent ten years with Cas as my best friend, and for the last four we were lovers. No one knows his body like I do.”

The promise in those words heat his blood, and it becomes obvious to him that he isn’t just feeling friendship for this man. It’s something scary and out of his depth.

Tension, tight and twitchy, pulls in the air between them. Dean’s eyes soften until Jimmy snaps out of the haze.

“Okay, let’s figure this out. What was Cas doing when he … died?”

“He was in a doctoral program at CalTech.” Jimmy lifts his brow in surprise. That’s impressive as hell. Is he smart enough to pull that off? He contemplates it while Dean continues his story. 

“He had been acting weird for a few weeks because he was feeling incredibly pressured by the program to find commercial applications for his research. A couple of days before he died, he was so happy. He’d found an open research position at Johns Hopkins. We were talking about moving to Baltimore at the semester break.”

“He was going to switch programs in the middle of his degree? That’s unheard of.”

“Yeah. He was that unhappy with what was going on. I tried to get him to talk to me about it, but he would just say that it was boring science stuff and distract me. I assumed that he would tell me if something was wrong.” Dean takes a deep, cleansing breath. “I should have pushed harder.”

“So, how did he die?”

“Supposedly, he overdosed on campus. Cas never did drugs. He would even balk at taking over the counter stuff unless it couldn’t be helped in other ways. He definitely wouldn’t have gone that way.”

“Did you see the toxicology report?”

“No, but then again, I couldn’t even see him.”

“What?”

“He was on school grounds and because I wasn’t a student and I wasn’t family, I wasn’t allowed to see him.” Dean’s eyes fill as he speaks, the pain of that day as fresh as five years ago. Sam has insinuated it’s because he won’t deal with his grief, but Dean knows that it’s because it is the worst thing he could ever imagine happening.

“So you never saw his body.”

Dean shakes his head, low and troubled.

“What about at the funeral?” 

“I enlisted in the Army that night. I wasn’t here, but Cas doesn’t have any family left. Sam and I were his only family.”

Jimmy ponders everything that he’s learned in the past few days. His entire childhood is a lie. His life now is a lie. No one knows anything about Jimmy Novak, including him, and an identical version of him went missing under mysterious circumstances a few years ago. 

He calls the bartender over and orders two shots. When they arrive, he slides one over to Dean. “Apparently, I believe you. What the fuck do we do now?”

Dean smiles a beatific smile and says, “Drink, Cas.”

  
  
  


  
  
  


After a few drinks, they decide to go find a hotel room because there’s no way that Cas can go home and face his train wreck of a life right now, and Dean’s home is way too far to drive to with this much whiskey running through his veins. It works out for the best because Dean also wants to keep him safe until they can figure out what to do, so deviating from their typical routine is a must.

On their walk, Cas keeps stopping to ask questions as they hit him. “What happened between when I died and now? I didn’t have the accident that long ago.”

“You didn’t have an accident, Cas.”

“Then why was I in the hospital?”

“I don’t know. Add it to the thousands of missing pieces we need to figure out.”

They walk in step with each other, Cas stealing glances out of the corner of his eye. Dean smirks but waits patiently for Cas to work up to what he wants to ask this time.

“Whoever planned my fake life screwed up. They didn’t even try to Photoshop pictures of me. That was a huge sign that something was wrong. And why would they make me marry a woman? Did they make me straight?”

Dean stops in Cas’s path. “Are you straight?”

“Yes?” The adorably flushed squinty face warms his heart. 

“Are you sure?” Dean’s voice drops an octave, quiet and expectant.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know my own fucking name.” It’s meant as snark, but Dean just looks at Cas with heat and intention. He steps into his personal space, brushes his shirt against Cas’s. 

He licks his lips and meets those gorgeous blue eyes that are starving for his attention. Ducking his head, Dean slowly brushes his lips across the plush ones that he’s missed more than breath, but that’s as far as he allows himself to take it. It’s nearly impossible to make himself step back, but he manages it.

Cas huffs out a shaky breath and states, “I’m not straight. Like, even a little bit.”

Dean chuckles and gestures for Cas to follow as he starts walking. “That’s a good thing. I’d hate to think I’ve been in love with a straight boy for fifteen years.”

Cas gapes after him. Fifteen years. They’ve known each other for well over a decade and Cas doesn’t remember him. That must be horrible. He can’t imagine having to carry that all on his own if he were in his shoes. “Dean-”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so, so-”

“Don’t. Please don’t say you’re sorry or some version of it.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you.”

“Whoa. I’m going to stop you right there. This?” He gestures between them as he steps closer. “This is hard, don’t get me wrong. It sucks that you don’t remember the ten years that we were each other’s everything. It sucks that you don’t know me at all when I know every secret, lie, and dream you’ve ever had. But, compared to losing you? Thinking you were dead?” Dean shakes his head with a gentle smile. “This is an answered prayer.”

At the hotel, Dean is waiting for his turn with the shower, so he opens their book to his favorite story, “The Fox and the Forest”. Scrawled over the first page is a drawing of a cartoon pig rolling a shopping cart. What the hell? He can’t believe that Cas would deface such an important piece of their history like this. It is more than just a gift from him. It’s become a talisman of their relationship over the years. 

When he emerges from the steamy bathroom, pink-skinned from the heat, Dean snaps at him, “Why the hell would you draw in this book, Cas? It’s in pen, too.” 

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“This is your style. I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean. I don’t know how to draw.”

Dean looks up to see if he’s joking and almost swallows his own tongue. He hasn’t seen Cas’s body in almost five years, and in those years he has put on some thick muscle. Dean’s eyes caress every line and curve, his mouth begging to lick the droplets of water from his warm skin. He is salivating and he has to subtly adjust himself in his jeans. He’s caught looking, and Cas is watching him back, wide-eyed and obviously nervous. 

It would be so easy to cross the room and give in to the desire that has been newly stoked by Cas’s return. The love of his life is within his reach. It’s a miracle and everything he hasn’t dared to pray for. It would be so easy to pull him close and bury his nose against his damp hair to breathe him in. It would be so easy to lay him out on the bed and reacquaint himself with every inch of the body his own has cried out for. It would all be so easy...if Dean wasn’t still a stranger to him.

Dean clears his throat and excuses himself to the bathroom.

  
  


They settle in for the night, Cas trying to sleep despite the fact that he’s an entirely different person now than when he woke up today. Well, he’s the same person in theory. He just didn’t know who he was. It’s mind-boggling and now that he’s adjusted his perspective, so many things fall in line. How did he not question that he went to Berkeley with Amelia, but there isn’t a single picture of them together? How didn’t he question a marriage in which they don’t touch, and they hardly speak to each other? How in the fuck did he not realize he was gay? 

His phone rings in the middle of the night. Amelia. Shit. In all of the chaos, he forgot to call her. She sounds very stiff and stilted when he picks up.

“Where are you, Jimmy? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, we had a happy hour after an extra long day and I’m going to crash at a friend’s place. I didn’t want to wake you.” The lie falls easily from his lips. He can tell that she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. She just utters a pinched, “We need to discuss this, James.” Before she hangs up.

He sets the phone down with a sigh. He doesn’t know what to think about her. Did he really marry her? Why would he have done that?

“You’re in the dog house, huh?” Dean teases. 

“I guess. We’ve never really argued, but she is not happy now.”

“Tell me about her?”

“Well, I don’t really know anything. I don’t know if we’re actually married, and I have no idea where we really met. It might have been in the hospital, because that’s my first memory of her.”

“You think she’s involved in all of this?”

“Maybe. I don’t know if the thought of it makes me feel better or worse. If she’s involved, I don’t feel bad about not caring about her because it was a setup. If not…”

“You’re feeling horrible about dragging her into all of this?” 

Dean must know him at least as well as he claims. He is feeling horribly guilty about his attraction to Dean because of her, but nothing has ever felt more right than simply being in Dean’s company. When he almost kissed him earlier, Cas had lit up like he was alive for the first time. That hasn’t once happened with her. Not even a spark.

Dean understands why confessions happen in the dark. When he doesn’t have to see Cas looking back at him, it’s a whole lot easier to admit, “The hardest part about this situation is watching you go through these life-altering discoveries on your own. More than anything, I want to comfort you, but I can’t. I’m just a stranger to you. Even though I know that green tea with honey always helps calm you when you’re upset; that you carry your stress in your neck, so rubbing my thumbs over those muscles keeps you from getting headaches; and that you love it when I sing your favorite songs to you.”

Turning onto his side facing the other bed where he can see Dean’s silhouette, he makes his own confession. “I feel so cheated. How could I forget someone who is obviously very important to me? Why can’t I remember you?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. That’s what I hope we can figure out together.”

  
  


  
  


The next day, they go to Amelia’s house. Cas needs closure with her one way or the other, and he needs to pick up some clothes. Dean is also hopeful that she knows something that will help them since they are starting with almost no information.

When they walk to the door, Cas mutters that he’s always hated the house, which makes Dean laugh and clap him on the back. It looks like a friendly touch, but he needs it to ground him right now. He needs the connection to the man at his side. 

She is sitting on the couch when they walk in together, and Dean tries not to snarl at her. This is the woman that his Cas is married to, that has laid by his side every night in bed. They obviously aren’t happily married, but he knows that they must have been intimate. He can’t bear to ask because he doesn’t think he could handle the answer.

Amelia is nervous and fidgety with her hands. “Is this the friend you spent the night with?”

“Uh, yes. This is Dean. Dean, Amelia.”

They nod in greeting, each on the near side of too curt. “I’ve never heard you mention a Dean before.”

“We’re very old friends,” Dean chimes in, glaring. 

Cas looks back and forth between them and rolls his eyes. “I need to grab some things.”

Dean follows him into their bedroom, his distaste evident. Standing in the doorway, he crosses his arms over his chest and waits. He isn’t going to prompt the conversation between the two, but he wishes that they could get on with it so he can take Cas and leave. He’s never had reason for jealousy before, and he finds that he hates it.

Knowing that they have a third party listening to them, Cas leans in very closely to his ear. “Why are you having this pissing match with her, Dean?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t. Isn’t it obvious where my allegiance lies?” 

Dean steps even closer to him and nuzzles into his hair. “She is married to you. She’s been with you while I grieved for you. Surely you can understand why I might be feeling a bit envious and protective?”

“Well, what can I do to make it better?”

Dean licks his lips and dips his eyes low. Damn. The last time Cas asked him that was when Dean had sprained his wrist and couldn’t do most anything. Cas had sucked him and fucked him morning, noon, and night for days to make him feel better. The memories bubble up unbidden, but he loves the flush of red that rises on Cas’s cheeks when he catches on to Dean’s train of thought. 

Dean chuckles. “Now that I know you’re you, you’re going to have to qualify statements like those a little better, yeah?”

Cas sputters, but Dean isn’t really looking for an answer. He just wants to get the hell out of here.

  
  
  


“Excuse me,” comes the timid voice from behind him. “I need to speak with my husband.” Looks like Dean isn’t the only one trying to assert their place in his life. 

Unlike what he wants from Dean, Cas isn’t interested in having her stay in his life. There’s nothing to salvage in the relationship. He leads her over to their bathroom, gesturing for her to follow. When they’d been there on the exterminating mission, Dean had pinpointed a couple locations in the house where it was safe to talk without being watched or overheard. 

“Actually, we don’t have a marriage license filed, so we’re not married.”

“What? What do you mean?” The pearl-clutching is a bit over the top, but Cas tries to remain calm. There is so much anger percolating to the surface, though, now that he is in front of someone he can blame. 

“When did we actually meet, because I know it wasn’t at Berkeley.”

“We…we did.”

“Please stop lying to me.” 

“I’m not lying, Jimmy.”

“His name isn’t Jimmy!” Dean snaps. “His name is Castiel.”

She startles at hearing his voice so close behind them. She looks between the two of them, worry in her eyes. “How do you know?”

“He is my best friend, my boyfriend. Someone faked his death five years ago. I’ve just found him again.”

“But how did you know that he’s the same person?” 

No denial. Just questions. Interesting that she bends so easily. Dean reaches into his back pocket and pulls out their Bradbury book. “I found this hidden on your bookshelf.”

Both of them are surprised to see her smile when she sees the book in Dean’s hand. “When “Jimmy” was first given into my care in the hospital, he had that book hidden in the lining of his trench coat. I figured that if he cared enough about it to hide it in such a careful way, that it was important. I couldn’t get rid of it, despite my orders.”

“Orders? So then you are a part of this.” Cas’s face is much less placid than it was a moment ago. With dread, she looks up at his face and apologizes. “I never would have been involved, but they have my daughter. I’m only allowed visitation with her on Sundays.”

“You weren’t going to church, then.” Cas smirks. 

She blushes and shakes her head. “No, it is the only time I can see my baby.”

Dean interrupts to ask, “Who is they? Who has your baby?”

“I don’t know who they are. They took her from her daycare and told me that I needed to do what they told me if I wanted to keep seeing her.” 

Her voice is shaky and she’s wringing her hands, but there aren’t any normal signs that she is lying. Dean continues to question her, not knowing how long this door will remain open.

“When was this?”

“Almost 19 months ago.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?” Cas asks gently. Dean feels a smidgen of shame. He’s using this woman as surely as the ones who forced her into this situation. His heart swells for Cas because he has such a good heart. Even though this woman has lied to him and kept him believing lies for almost two years, he’s concerned for her well-being.

“They told me that if they even caught a hint of law enforcement sniffing around that they would kill Claire, my daughter.”

Dean and Cas share a look over her head. Yeah, these people are worse than they had anticipated. Who threatens to kill a toddler to keep their parent in line? That’s sick.

“Well, I’m sorry you’re caught up in this mess, but it will be over soon. We’re going to find out who these people are and why they took my life away from me.” Cas disappears into the closet and grabs a duffel bag. When he starts pulling shirts off of hangars, Amelia jumps into motion. 

She grabs his arm as she pleads, “You can’t leave. You have to stay here. If you leave, they will take her away from me.”

Cas calmly takes her hands off of him and holds them. “They can’t hold you accountable for my choices. I’m leaving. They don’t need to know the reason.”

“No, Jimmy, please.” Tears streaming down her face, the woman is getting hysterical. “If they sense that something is wrong, they will blame me.”

“Cas. Jimmy was just a lie. I can’t stay, Amelia. Not knowing that I had a completely different life before they raped my mind. I need to find out who’s responsible and make them pay.”

“They’ll kill you.”

Tilting his head and narrowing his gaze, Cas says, “I don’t think so. I have something that they want. I’m too valuable to them.”

Dean chimes in, “Help us. Tell us what you know and we’ll get to them that much faster.”

“I can’t be a part of it. I’ll never see Claire again!” She keeps trying to get in the way of his packing, until Dean steps in. Using his large body as a shield, he stays between them, blocking Amelia from getting to Cas while he crams everything he can into the small bag.

Dean uses the short amount of time it takes to try to convince her to help them, but it’s futile. He can’t blame her. If he had a child, he’s fairly certain he would do anything in his power to keep them safe.

“If you’re going to leave, you need to make it look like I tried to stop you,” she demands. 

“How?”

“Punch me. Knock me out.”

Dean and Cas recoil at the detestable request. “Hell, no. No one is going to hit you.”

Setting her shoulders, she mutters, “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Before either of them can react, she runs into the door frame, slamming her face into the wood. She staggers, wobbles, and falls to the ground, blood dripping from her nose and from somewhere in her hairline. 

Cas jumps and curses, his hands immediately going into his hair. Dean has a similarly horrified look on his face. Seeing the lengths that she is willing to go to prove that she didn’t cooperate with them cements the reality of the situation they are in. 

Cas goes back into the bathroom and wets a face cloth to clean away some of the blood, but Dean stops him. “Cas, she did this to protect her kid. I know it feels heartless to leave her like this, but if we clean her up then her story isn’t going to work.”

Sadness falls over Cas. It slumps his shoulders and drops his head. “This is horrible. She doesn’t deserve this.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Instinctively, Cas turns and buries his head into Dean’s neck. Strong, capable arms come around him, pushing some of the fear away. “So, let’s find these sons of bitches and help her get her life back, too.”

  
  


Though it sickens him, Cas smears some of her blood on his knuckles before they walk back through the house, purely for the sake of the cameras. They don’t speak until they are back at the hotel, safely behind a locked door. While he is scrubbing his hands in the sink, Dean comes in behind him to offer support. 

Looking into the mirror, Cas says quietly, “We still don’t have a reason for why someone did this to me. Amelia didn’t fill in many gaps.”

“No, I don’t really think she knew much. She might have been able to tell us where she meets her daughter every week, but we can just follow her if we think that might be a good lead.”

“Why did they choose her? Why did they choose me?”

“I wish I had the answers, Cas. None of this makes any sense. It feels like knowing what they wanted will make the rest fall in line.”

Wandering back into the main room, they sit heavily on the beds facing each other, the weight of this burden making them feel dense and tired.

“You supposedly died on campus, which makes me think that it has something to do with your work.”

Cas nods, worrying his lip between his teeth. “Which I don’t remember. Do you?”

Dean rubs a hand over his jaw. “Not with any specificity. I’m not a scientist,” he apologizes. “But it had to do with pheromones.”

“Did I start my thesis?”

“Yes, but you keep everything at school. Research, notes, everything. It had something to do with intellectual property agreements.”

“We have a lot of things that we don’t know. What do we know?” Cas shakes off the urge to duck under the covers and sleep.

“Okay, you obviously knew something was about to happen, or you wouldn’t have sewn this book into your coat.” Dean pulls it out of his back pocket again, running his fingers over the edges. 

“So, I just wanted to keep it safe?”

“Maybe, or maybe it holds a message.”

Cas smirks at him, asking in a teasing tone, “A message? Like a code? I think you’ve watched too many movies.”

“I spent four years in military intelligence, Cas. I was trained to think this way.”

“What way? Paranoid and cynical?”

“There’s my Cas,” Dean laughs. “You snarky, adorable asshole.”

Cas laughs along with him, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s actually laughed in months. Maybe since the “accident” that didn’t happen.

The warm fondness in Dean’s eyes fills him with contentment. Feeling the need to be closer to Dean, he moves to sit beside him. He flips through the pages, but the pig drawing is the only difference. “It bothered me that you would draw all over this book. Maybe that’s why you did it.”

“To get your attention?”

“Or yours. You wouldn’t write in your textbooks, high school or college. Maybe you knew it would catch your eye?”

“That makes sense, but why a pig with a shopping cart? Is that some inside joke?”

Dean shakes his head with a chuckle. “Piggly Wiggly Supermarkets?”

“There aren’t any here.”

“No, but there were in Kansas.”

Cas licks his lips and tentatively asks, “Is that where we’re from?”

Dean’s eyes fill with sympathy. “Oh, shit. I forgot that we didn’t fill in all of your gaps. We’ve been so busy with-” 

“It’s okay, Dean. I’d rather not get everything at once. Just give me snippets as they come up. It’s easier on my head.”

Dean presses a gentle kiss into his temple and tells him, “Yeah, we grew up in Lawrence, Kansas.”

“We went to school together?”

“Yeah, we met when I was ten and you were twelve.”

“I’ll bet you were adorable with all those freckles.”

“I certainly thought so,” he teases. 

“How did we become friends?”

“We bonded over our shitty fathers.”

Cas meets his eye with confusion. Dean tells him the story of how they met with great animation. How they were both forgotten at school after detention and they walked home together, laughing about how upset everyone would be.

“Were they? Upset?”

Dean’s face drops. “No, Cas. Neither of our dads gave a shit about us. We realized early on that our family was each other.”

“I was good friends with Sam, too, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, you are,” Dean grins, deliberately changing the tense of the verb. “Sam is going to be so excited to have you back. You have no idea what kind of hero worship you are in for.”

Cas’s head is starting up that persistent throb again, and Dean sees it in his expression. 

“I can take care of that for you if you want.”

Cas nods. He’s unsure of how to go about getting close to Dean again, so he lets him take the lead. Dean tells him to turn on the bed to give his back to him, and he uses his thumbs to run up and down the muscles in his neck. It feels divine, and he sinks into it.

“What about that children’s rhyme?” he mutters. 

“What one?” Dean’s voice is a satisfied rumble behind his ear.

“I don’t know the name, but it goes, ‘This little piggy went to market. This little piggy stayed home…’”

“Could be, yeah. But why?” He stops his massage and Cas turns to face him.

“Well, you say the rhyme while you play with a kid’s toes…”

Dean catches onto the idea. Toes. 

“Cas, take your shoes and socks off.”

“What? Why?” He questions, even as he’s kicking off his shoes.

“It’s a long shot, but the “Illustrated Man” is all about tattoos, right? You drew a picture that calls to mind a children’s song about tickling toes right on top of our favorite story.”

“I would know if I had a tattoo, Dean.”

“Would you? Really? If it was, say, under your toe?”

Dean takes his naked feet and pulls them up to eye level, knocking Cas onto his back. He smiles and pinches the big toe on his left foot. 

“This little piggy has a secret, Cas.”

“What does the tattoo say?”

“Eaton.”


	4. Around a Tiger's Tail

Cas has no idea what ‘Eaton’ means, but as Dean’s huge grin shows; he does. 

“Eaton Canyon Falls was a place we went all the time. It was just a few miles away from our apartment in Pasadena. We lived as close to those foothills as we could, so we could get out of the “city” and into nature quickly.”

Dean gets choked up as he continues the story. “We even had a secret spot off the trail where we would sit and watch the sunset. The last time we were there, you told me that you wanted to transfer to Johns Hopkins. I wasn’t thrilled to move to Maryland, but I told you that I would always go where you went.” 

Dean takes a deep breath and looks away from him for a moment. “You promised me that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives, that you wanted to get married as soon as you were done with your doctorate.”

Dean remembers the words that he had spoken next with a bitter regret. “We have all the time in the world, sweetheart. We don’t need to rush. You’re only twenty-three.”

“So, I basically proposed to you there.” Cas is reeling. No wonder Dean had been so possessive around Amelia. He’d gotten married to someone else. Granted, they weren’t actually married, but still. That had to sting.

Dean blinks away tears and shrugs. Cas is starting to realize that the nonchalance is a protective armor Dean wields to keep himself from getting hurt. He hates that Dean is using it with him, but he needs to be patient as they get to know each other again.

  
  


  
  


In the morning, they go back to Eaton Falls and Dean takes them to their secret spot. The crisp air is filled with the astringent scent of cedar as they climb through the low hills. Cas can see how Dean is struggling to stay emotionless, so he tries to distract him. 

“How did we find this place, anyway?”

“When we first moved, we were still really into geocaching. Do you remember what that is?”

“Yeah, it’s little secret caches that are hidden all over the place. It’s a treasure hunt.”

“Exactly. You don’t remember doing it, do you?”

Cas frowns. “No, I know what it is, but that’s all.”

As Dean clears away some leaves from their little rock bench, he continues, “It was the hardest one we’d ever gone after because there wasn’t a trail to it, and it was over the edge of the cliff leading to the waterfall. We were persistent, though. We’d never hunted one we didn’t find, so we spent well over an hour hunting before we realized that the cache was under us. I had to hang over the edge with you holding my feet and remove a rock to find the artillery case inside.”

Dean chuckles at the memory of Cas haranguing him while he was dangling by his grip. Suddenly, he remembers that they had moved that cache and changed its GPS location on the website to make it safer to find. No one else knows where the cache used to be. That has to be where Cas wanted them to look.

As Dean shimmies out over the edge of the cliff, he explains his thinking. Rocks slip into tiny avalanches as he crawls on his belly. Cas holds onto him in a mirror of their first time in this place. When Dean wiggles the rock out of the hole, he whoops with glee. Cas takes the rock from him, and then a different artillery case. 

Pain bursts behind his eye as soon as he sees it. Through the haze of pain, he begs Dean to hurry, even though his grip on his feet stays tight. 

As soon as Dean scoots far enough back, Cas rests, seated on the ground with his head leaning on his knees. “You okay, baby?”

Cas is surprised by how good it feels to hear that nickname come to him in Dean’s voice. “Yeah, I keep getting these violent headaches.”

“When did they start?”

“About the time we met,” Cas scoffs. 

“Cas, are you calling me a pain in your ass?” 

“No, in my head.” He hisses at the shooting pain caused by laughing. 

“Here, why don’t you wear these. They might help.” He takes the sunglasses that Dean offers to help block out the ambient light. 

Looking up, Cas manages a quirk of a grin. Dean lets his lips part. “Damn. You should keep those.”

“Are you really flirting with me when I’m in pain?”

Dean grins sheepishly. “Can’t help it. You look hot with those on.”

Once the worst of the pain recedes, they open the artillery case together. Inside, they find a leather-bound journal that Dean gave Cas for Christmas one year. It is filled with pages and pages of sketches, notes, doodles, and letters from alphabets that he has never seen before. 

“I told you you could draw,” Dean remarks as they scan through the book. Cas gets woozier the longer they look at it, almost like the images are causing the pain. 

Noticing that Cas is flagging, Dean shuts the book and hands it to him. While he puts everything back the way they found it, he won’t let Cas help, which is just as well. Cas isn’t sure that he could be much of a help with the spikes of steel pushing through his eye sockets. Even though he can walk on his own, Dean insists on helping him back down the trail. 

  
  


On the way back to their hotel, Dean stops at a drugstore to get Ibuprofen. When they were younger, Cas got headaches frequently, but they were because of eye strain. He’s fairly certain that the headaches he’s getting now are related to whatever those bastards did to take Cas’s memories. Why else would they be affecting him all of a sudden? While he’s in the store, he also picks up a couple water bottles and some snack food.

When he walks outside, he sees the man that had been tailing Cas the other day. He’s slowly walking towards his Impala. Shit. He ducks behind the pillar by the door and peeks out the opposite side. 

In the passenger seat, Cas’s eyes are closed and he’s completely vulnerable. Without a thought, Dean pulls his gun from the holster at the small of his back. Walking swiftly and with deadly intent, Dean makes his presence known. As soon as the guy looks up at him, Dean warns, “Get the fuck away from him.”

When the smarmy asshole tries to placate him, but still slides closer to his car, Dean snaps. Like an enraged bull, Dean charges toward him, yelling for him to back off. The man keeps talking calmly, but all it accomplishes is ramping up Dean’s anger.

“Hey, I just need to talk to James for a minute. His boss is worried about him.”

“I don’t know how to make it any more clear than this. You aren’t getting near him, and if I have to shoot you to keep you away, I have zero problem with that.”

“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” 

“Not at all. How did you find us, anyway?”

The overconfident man chuckles. “I don’t kiss and tell.” 

They are in a literal standoff, and the guy is still trying to move closer. 

“Mr. Novak?” He yells, deciding that if he can’t get through Dean, he’ll go around him. “There’s an urgent problem in the lab, and you’re the manager. We need your help.”

Dean doesn’t hear one of the Impala’s doors open, so Cas thankfully has enough sense to stay in the car. The man takes one more step towards them, and that’s enough. Dean fires a warning shot down at the ground near his feet. “That’s the last warning you’re getting.” 

Finally, the man sees the good sense to back off. Dean doesn’t take his aim from the guy until he’s in the car and out of the parking space.

They leave fast, and Dean starts to put a plan into motion. He just fired a gun in public. He is sure that the drug store has cameras. They need to ditch his car, get necessary supplies, and get off the grid asap. His combat senses have taken over, pumping adrenaline through his body, his heart beating rapidly. 

He looks over at Cas, afraid of what he’ll see. Shock. Panic. He is looking at Dean like he’s insane. “Why are you carrying a gun?”

“I’m a P.I., Cas.”

“Was it necessary to shoot at him?”

“I didn’t shoot at him. It was a warning shot. I didn’t get anywhere close to him. And you know what? Yes, it was necessary. He wouldn’t stop.”

“Breathe, Dean. You sound like you’re going to hyperventilate.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fucking terrified. If I had taken a couple more minutes in there, he could have gotten to you.”

Cas takes his hand and laces their fingers together. “Thank you.”

His touch smoothes out the trembling, but he can’t settle into the comfort. “Don’t thank me yet. We’ve got a long way to go before we’re safe.”

They go back to Dean’s small apartment in Thousand Oaks, where he has a go bag stashed as well as their tent and the green cooler. He watches Cas closely when he pulls those sacred objects out of his closet. They haven’t been used in years, but they were among the few things that Sam had rescued from their apartment when their world imploded. Cas flinches and rubs his temple when he sees them. 

“I think your headaches are caused by seeing things you remember.”

“Why?”

“This tent and the cooler are important to us.” Cas scrutinizes them, not with the eye of someone looking at a cherished memory, but like someone at a flea market.

“When we first became friends, we wanted to get away from our houses and go on adventures. I worked that whole first summer mowing yards, and you had a paper route. We saved up every penny, and then went to buy a tent, sleeping bags, and this old green cooler at the Army surplus store.”

With a fond smile, Cas runs a hand over the lid of the banged up cooler. “Did we go on those adventures?”

“Yeah, Cas. We did.”

  
  
  


  
  


From Dean’s place, they head to Malibu. He doesn’t take the winding canyon roads like usual because there isn’t a lot of traffic on them, and they need to try to blend in. It’s hard to do in a ‘67 Impala, but he’s doing what he can. As soon as they are back on the road, he tosses his phone to Cas and asks him to text Sam for him. 

“What do you want me to say?”

“Poughkeepsie”

“Pardon?”

Dean laughs. “It’s our code word for ‘Stop everything. I’m in trouble and need help.’”

Cas shakes his head. “It definitely wouldn’t come up in everyday conversation.”

“Exactly.”

Less than a minute after Cas sends the text, Sam calls. “Where?”

“Student Union in half an hour.”

“Later.”

Cas is flummoxed by the curt call when Sam hangs up. “Well, hello, Sam. Nice to talk to you,” he grouses and sets the phone back in the console. “You Winchesters aren’t big on phone conversations, are you?”

“Ah, no. We never would have made it as a long distance relationship.”

To pass the time and to keep his mind off the danger they could be in, probably are in, Cas asks him more about their past. 

“So, how did that work? I’m older than you. We had to be apart at some point, right?”

“No, we didn’t want anything to separate us, so you went to KU in Lawrence until I graduated. You had done so many college level classes during high school that it only took you those two years to complete your Bachelor’s degree.”

“And then we moved to California?”

“Yeah, you went to CalTech, and I went to the local community college.”

“What about Sam?”

“He didn’t want to leave his friends. He was really active in school, so I let him stay with his best friend’s family until he graduated.”

“That was kind of you.”

“It was the hardest thing I’d ever done up to that point.” Cas puts his hand on his shoulder in sympathy.

“Speaking of family, I’m assuming that I don’t have any because you haven’t mentioned getting in touch with them.”

“I’m sorry, Cas. It was just you and your dad, and you cut ties with him when you came out to him.”

Cas swallows and nods his head. It’s sad to hear it confirmed, but he had assumed it was the case. How else would they have gotten away with making him disappear? “He wasn’t impressed?”

“Homophobic prick is more accurate.”

“What did your dad think?”

“I never told him.”

“Really?”

Dean shrugs. “He would have tried to separate me and Sam, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

“How did we …”

“Not get caught?”

Cas nods. 

“We didn’t become a ‘we’ until I was sixteen.”

“Wow.”

“Well, physically anyway. We were ‘us’ from the day we met, but you wouldn’t even kiss me until I was sixteen. I had to wait another year before you’d do anything else.”

“That sounds appropriate.” 

“It was damned annoying.”

“If you were that frustrated, you could have found someone to-”

“Hey, don’t say that. Being with anyone else was never an option for me. You’ve always been it for me.”

Cas is left to ponder the surety in his words as they navigate into a public parking space near Pepperdine’s campus.

“I hate to leave her here, but she’s too noticeable to take with us.” Dean says as he runs his hands over her fender. “Sorry, Baby. I’ll clean you up as soon as we get back.”

Cas follows him down the street with a quiet smile. Dean keeps looking back at him. “What? You aren’t going to make fun of me for caring too much about my car?”

“Should I?”

“No, but everyone else does.”

“I think it’s sweet.” Dean rolls his eyes at the comment but keeps walking. Cas catches up to him and continues, “It also tells me that you take very good care of what you love.”

Dean gives him a bashful smile before they turn the corner onto campus. The closer they get to the Student Union, the denser the crowd of young, tanned coeds gets. Some are sitting at the tables, others are spread out on the ground. They can smell some kind of meat being grilled and can hear a live band in the distance. When they reach the building, Dean can see Sam above the crowd. 

He claps Dean on the back in a one-armed hug. “You had me worried, dude.”

“Well, there’s good reason to be worried.”

“Hey, Jimmy,” Sam says as he extends a hand.

Cas shakes his head and corrects him. “I prefer Cas.”

The look of astonishment on Sam’s face lasts for a long second before he barks out a laugh and picks Cas up, spinning him around. “It is so good to hear you say that, man. I’ve missed you!”

“Hey, hey. Take it easy,” Dean demands with an attempted scowl.

Cas lands on his feet messily, and Dean reaches out to support him with a hand on his hip. 

“So is this what the ‘911’ call was about?”

Dean glances around surreptitiously. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately that isn’t your dorm?”

Sam’s concern resurfaces, but he nods and gestures for them to follow. Weaving through the crowd, Dean takes Cas’s hand to keep them together before he thinks better of it. Cas holds on even tighter, so he doesn’t pull away. 

They go into the library and down two floors to a poorly lit archive that reeks of mold and neglect. Finally, Sam stops. “This is one of the only places on campus that I’ve found without a camera.”

With a lewd grin, Dean asks, “Why are you looking for places without cameras, Sammy?”

He knows his brother hates the nickname, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t still use it to get him riled up. It’s what big brothers are for. “Grow up, Dean.”

With a chuckle, Dean starts in on their story. He tells his brother all about Cas’s memory loss, the fake marriage, the people tailing him, the mystery man who threatened Dean, and even the clues that they’ve followed already. As Dean talks, Sam’s eyes get wider and wider. By the end, his jaw is open and he’s speechless. 

“How the fuck did you two get involved with something so insane?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Cas assures him. 

“And all you have to go on is a sci-fi novel and a sketchbook full of pictures?”

“There are some other clues, but we’re thinking the sketch book must be important. Otherwise, why would I have hidden it in such a secret location?”

“This sounds dangerous,” Sam warns with furrowed brows.

“It is, but we’re taking precautions.” Dean is calm and collected for the moment, not needing to have his head on a swivel to look for threats. “Cas wants his life back, and he wants justice. I’m going to help him.”

They share a look while Dean speaks for him, a gentle, supportive look. Sam clears his throat to pull their attention back. “Well, I’m assuming that I won’t hear from you for a while.”

“Oh, actually.” Dean pulls a small cell phone out of his pocket and hands it to Sam. “It has my burner number programmed. Use it if you need to reach me.”

Sam nods. “How are you for money? You can’t use your accounts if you think they’re tracking you.”

“We’re fine. I’ve got a couple of identities set up that can’t be traced. If worse comes to worse, I can hustle pool.”

“I’d give you what I have, but it’s literally not worth the trip to the ATM. I’m broke until my paycheck hits in a couple of days.”

“I appreciate it, Sam, but we’ll be fine.”

“Jesus. This is crazy. I wouldn’t have believed your ramblings a couple of weeks ago would turn into the most sane part of the truth.” 

“Try living it,” Cas says with a straight face. 

“No, thanks, man.” Sam hugs them both and asks what else he can do.

“Do you have a friend with a car that would let us borrow it?”

“Why not take mine?”

“I don’t want to do anything that can be traced back to you and me. I only need it to get to a car lot and then you can drive them up there to pick it up in a couple of days. If you can stand it, I’d like for you to stay on campus until then.”

Sam nods. “Sure, that’s no problem. Whatever you need, man. I know just the guy, too. He owes me a favor. Hang out here and I’ll be back in about ten minutes.”

  
  


While they wait, Dean takes a seat on the bottom step of the stairs and watches Cas. He still can’t get over the fact that he’s standing there, healthy and whole. It’s a mind fuck that hits him at least once an hour. After five years of relying on his fallible memory, he realizes that he had already forgotten so much. He’d forgotten how many shades of color are in Cas’s hair; from the darkest blacks, to rich mahogany, to auburn. This morning, he’d noticed the tiniest hint of silver at his temple. Depending on the light, his eyes change like a chameleon too. The blues rotate through an ever-changing palette from Paine’s Gray to Cobalt Teal to Prussian Blue.

“You’re staring again,” Cas teases without even glancing in his direction. 

“Yeah, and how could you tell?” Dean stands and stretches, catching his hands on the overhang and leaning forward to work the kinks out of his shoulders and back.

Drifting over into Dean’s space, Cas says, “You’re quiet when you look at me.”

“And I’m usually running my mouth?”

“No, not at all. But, when you’re completely still, I know you’re remembering something. Are you trying to reconcile the fact that I’m here?”

“Intuitive as ever,” Dean smiles and gets caught in his indigo snare. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m admiring your beauty.”

Cas rolls his eyes, but Dean catches his chin with a touch before he can turn away. “It’s the truth, Cas. You’re even more beautiful now than you were five years ago. The angles of your face are sharper, your beard is thicker. You’ve developed some very lovely muscle that you didn’t have before. You’re still running, aren’t you?”

His mouth parts to say something, but he’s completely mesmerized by the intensity in Dean’s eyes. Dean leans closer and Cas can feel his breath exhale against his lips. He wants to lick it into his mouth and pull Dean closer. His heart is beating double time, anxiety and fear trying to outdo the anticipation. He’s never kissed a man, at least in his memory. What will those lips feel like on his own? What does Dean taste like? What will his tongue feel like caressing his? 

“Hey, guys,” Sam calls from the top of the stairs. “Let’s go.”

Dean doesn’t jump back or away at being caught. He simply offers him a sheepish smile, and turns to follow his brother. Cas takes a few extra cleansing breaths before joining them.

While Cas is occupied with talking to Sam’s friend, Dean and Sam say their goodbyes. “I’ll text you the address of the car lot when we find one.” Dean says as he claps Sam on the back. This goodbye feels different from the others since he’s been stateside. He’s heading out into an unknown situation. They don’t have a clue of what they will find along the way or how long it might take to unravel the mysteries. 

“I’m glad that you and Cas are back together. I’m surprised that it happened so quickly.”

“We’re not…”

Sam pulls back to look at him. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I caught you about to kiss in the library, you were holding hands earlier, not to mention that you’re both doing the soul -searching, uncomfortably long eye contact thing. You may not have done anything physically with him, but you’re together.”

“He isn’t my Cas. He doesn’t remember anything.” Dean vents to his brother as quietly as he can. “I can’t take advantage of that.”

“He obviously believes you.”

“Yeah, he believes the evidence that he’s Castiel Milton. He still doesn’t know me.”

Sam puts his hands on his hips and nods his head as he thinks. “He’s getting to know you, though.”

“Yeah, and he’s open to the idea of our past relationship. I just don’t want to ask for more right now. This has got to be mind-blowing. I don’t want to add to his stress. I want him to know that he can lean on me, that I will help make his life easier.”

Sam gives him a huge grin, full of pride. “You’re a good man, Dean, which is why you’ll get him back. He’s going to fall in love with you again.”

“That’s my goal.”

  
  
  


In the car, Dean grumbles about not being able to drive his own car. “This tin can is not safe.”

“Be grateful that this kid is willing to help us.”

“I’m grateful, but I’m also entirely underwhelmed.”

“Wave at the boys with a smile, Dean.” He complies, and turns the little vehicle to head towards the 101. They’re heading north mostly to go in the opposite direction of Pasadena and Cas’s lab. 

Dean and Cas left their phones in the glove box of Baby as an extra precaution in case their phones can be tracked. Without them, though, they can’t navigate like they normally would. Cas finds himself completely out of his depth. He looks behind them several times and squints at the high level road map they got at the shadiest car dealer Dean has ever seen. He was able to get a much bigger car for less than $2000, so he isn’t going to question the legitimacy of the place too much.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

“No. We’re just putting some miles between us and your old life.”

Cas continues to fidget and ask questions for another thirty minutes before Dean realizes that he’s not going to stop. He’s unsettled and feeling that too much is out of his control. Dean remembers this mood of Cas’s well. A warm smile tips his lips up as he rolls through his many memories of pulling Cas out of his head and grounding him with his touch. 

Cas is very sensual and loves to exert his body when he needs to think through something difficult. Dean has always been more than happy to get on his knees and let Cas use his mouth when he needs to work out a problem. Sometimes he’d edge Cas for hours to keep him in the present with him. 

When he had gone to live in the dorms, he picked up running because Dean wasn’t always there to help with his stress relief. There’s no way he’s going to suggest that to Cas right now, despite getting hard just from thinking about the many possibilities. 

Instead, Dean takes the exit for Santa Barbara. They drive out to the foothills and go off-roading until they come to a trail head that he knows well. The view from this height is spectacular, and it’s so far removed from Cas’s normal life, that no one would ever think to look here for them.

Picking up their bags, Dean sets off towards the trails. Cas keeps asking questions. Why can’t they go to a hotel? What if there are wild animals? How are they going to cook? Dean forgot that this Cas doesn’t remember how many survival skills he has. He doesn’t remember camping and roughing it. Dean has to be patient with him. 

When he asks if Dean knows how to set up the tent, he rounds on him, “Listen, Cas. This may seem new to you, but I assure you, it isn’t. We spent more time in this tent than in an actual room until we moved here, and then it was about 50 / 50. I know what I’m doing, and so do you.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. This is just…not familiar.”

Dean’s eyes soften and he sidles up closer. “Look, as soon as I get camp set up, we can start working on the puzzle of what you know and why you hid it in that book, okay? Just trust me to take care of the camping until it comes back to you.”

“Is that what you think the drawings are? Puzzles?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know where you were, who had you, or what you were going through. All I know is that you were gone. Someone took you away from me and then told me you were dead. That isn’t something you do unless the payout is massive. You know something that these people are willing to kidnap you for. I pray that you hid that journal to shed some light on what they’re up to.”

“What if it isn’t anything? What if it’s just stupid doodles?” 

“Baby, you’re a genius who is gifted in at least three disciplines. I doubt that you weren’t aware of what was going on. I’m sure that you took precautions.”

“And if I didn’t?”

“Then we’ll disappear. We’ll go somewhere no one can find us.”

“What about your brother?”

“We’ll worry about that later.”

“Dean. Stop. Why are you willing to do this? I’ve completely disrupted your life. You should get away from me before they link you to me.”

Shaking his head, Dean says, “You still don’t get it. Cas, I love you. I have loved you for years, and I’m not going to leave you now that you’ve been resurrected.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

“Let’s set up camp, and then we can talk.”

  
  


Since Cas is overwhelmed by the implosion of his life, he sits on the ground against a rock, looking through the journal while Dean pitches the tent. Cas can’t believe that this is his life. Holy shit, he’s living a spy novel. He tattooed a mysterious clue under his toe to lead him to this book. He hid it for a reason. With a sigh, he cracks it open.

He catalogs what he recognizes. There are lots of pictures of bees interspersed with other animals. They are mostly pencil, but there are colors added in some of them. There aren’t many words in the book, just a few little notes. The dates on the pages fit the unaccounted for time between when he supposedly died and when he woke up in the hospital. 

It’s the shading of the wings in the last bee drawing in the book that catches his attention. It seems to be patterned. Squinting to look closely at it, he sees a chemical molecule form in the highlights. He recognizes the chains, the way the Carbon and Hydrogen atoms form bonds. It’s so familiar to him that its name is on the tip of his tongue until pain burns through his brain. Grasping the left side of his temporal lobe, he screams.

  
  


When he wakes, Dean is holding his head in his lap, running his fingers through his hair, and bargaining with God. The only word that repeats is ‘Please’. Cas wants to stay here, so close to Dean and feeling his touch, but he sounds so scared. Cas opens his eyes and Dean sighs in relief.

Once Dean helps him sit up and gives him a bottle of water, Cas asks if these headaches are normal.

“No, you had headaches all through school, but they were eye strain. Your asshole father wouldn’t take you to get glasses, so you strained your eyes all day trying to see the board at school and then read all evening.”

Even more than a decade later, Cas can hear the bitterness in Dean’s voice. “Whenever I could, I would take over and read to you.”

“You were a very good friend, Dean Winchester.”

“I still am. I should thank you for needing me to help you out, though. I attribute those long hours of reading science, logic, and philosophy textbooks for my outrageously impressive score on the ASVAB test. That score allowed me to have my pick of assignments in the Army.”

“So, your intelligence training and experience, which is the only thing allowing us to stay ahead of our pursuers, came about because our pursuers faked my death?”

Dean chuckles. “Something like that. I guess it all comes full circle.”

“Sounds a bit like karma, too.”

  
  


Now that the sun has set, the air is perfumed with night-blooming Jasmine, sweet and sultry. The lights are minimal out here, so they see layers of dense stars. The twinkling view through the valley below dead ends into the pitch black of the Pacific. It is beautiful; peaceful. Yet Cas can’t stop his brain from churning, despite the residual headache. They are sitting shoulder to shoulder, resting against a large rock that they found off the path.

Cas has a theory. His memory isn’t problematic from an accident. Dean proved that. So, why the scar on his head? The people who are after him must have done something to him to make him forget everything. They’ve glossed over the idea before, but now he wants to delve into it and figure out what they did. When he mentions it to Dean, he looks wary at best. 

“Cas, this is sounding more and more like a Bradbury story. It’s called science fiction because it’s not true.” 

“What other explanation could there be? I just happened to lose my memory and there’s a scar on my head? Electric shock treatment? Maybe. But that’s notoriously spotty. That wouldn’t have left a scar, either.”

“What about drugs?” Dean suggests.

“I don’t know of anything that will produce this long term loss. A few hours or days, but not years. Not unless they kept me drugged the whole time.”

“That doesn’t seem likely. Why take you just to drug you for years?”

“Good point. Also, why wipe my mind in the first place? Did I already give them what they wanted?”

His eyes go wide with panic. “Oh, shit. Dean. What if I did? What if I created something horrible that’s going to kill people? I might have, if they told me I could go back to my life, right? I would have done anything to get away. What if I’m the next Oppenheimer? Oh, fuck. We need to-”

Getting caught up in the whirlwind that is Cas’s mind, Dean knows he needs to put an end to this anxiety. He’s already given Dean one scare tonight. He can’t handle another. He does the only thing he can think to do, and pulls Cas in for a deep, searching kiss. As soon as their lips meet, Cas’s brain goes immediately offline. Dean relishes the feel of his cool lips pressing into his own. They are so soft and pillowy, and he groans at finally feeling them again. Tasting the unique flavor of Cas after so long is heavenly. He tastes of rich honey and clean lemon, and Dean slips his tongue along his luscious lips to collect more.

Realizing that the response from Cas is coming slower and less sure, he pulls back. Cas is staring back slack-jawed.

His face heats with shame. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Cas is quick to correct him. “No. No, it’s fine. I’ve wanted you to kiss me since the time you almost did in Pasadena.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Dean. I don’t remember you yet, but I believe that we were together. We probably still would be if someone hadn’t disrupted our lives.”

“That’s very trusting.” Dean finally meets his eye again.

“I’m trusting facts, and I’m also trusting my gut.” Cas puts his shoulders back and lifts his head. This is embarrassing to talk about, but Dean deserves to hear it. “There’s something between us that I’ve never felt before. I am inclined to explore it.”

“You are, are you?” Dean grins.

“Yes. I also have reason to think that my memories may never return, so if we’re going to explore this…connection, why wait?”

“So pragmatic, my love.”

Cas squints at him with a pout. “You’re teasing me.”

“No, I’m charmed by you,” Dean corrects as he cups his jaw. “You often mistake the two, though.”

Scowling, Cas receives another kiss, right between his eyes where his brow is furrowed. 

“Let’s eat something and then lay down and see if we can make any sense of this journal.”

  
  
  


Once they are down to boxers and t-shirts, they cozy up in the oversized sleeping bag. They each use a rolled towel for a pillow and they have a bright LED lantern over their heads. Dean is watching Cas carefully to make sure that he is comfortable with the arrangements, but he receives nothing but smiles.

Cas shows him what he was looking at when he passed out earlier. Dean makes him take it easy, not wanting to repeat his scare. When everything seems okay, they focus on the bee drawing on the last page. Turning the picture in different directions, they try to figure out the message. 

After a few moments, he mutters, “OBP.”

“What?”

“Odorant-binding protein. It’s what allows a bee to gather pheromones into their olfactory centers. Without it, they can’t communicate chemically.”

“I remember reading about pheromones with you your sophomore year,” Dean says fondly. “We wished that we could communicate like that so that we would have our own language that no one else could understand.”

Cas smiles at the sweet memory, but then it clicks. “Dean! That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“I’ve encoded the journal with molecular structures. Each protein is built from a series of amino acids that are in turn built from basic nucleic acids. Somehow, I’ve encoded information in here.”

“So, you know how to crack the code?”

“I must. I created it, right?” 

“Makes sense. We’ve got some time. I doubt that they’re going to catch up to us right away. We threw them some pretty decent curve balls.”

“I’d feel better if I knew who they were,” Cas replies, closing the book and yawning. 

“You and me both, Cas. Look, we need rest and I don’t want you to put your brain under any more stress tonight. You scared the crap out of me.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Don’t be sorry; just be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  
  


  
  


Cas feels big hands run over his naked skin, holding on to his hips and rocking him back and forth in his lap. He focuses and sees Dean beneath him, glistening and dewy with sweat. Both of their breathing is erratic, and Cas is feeling a blissful fullness inside his body that can only be Dean’s cock. 

“Call in sick tomorrow,” Dean begs him. “I want to stay in bed with you all day.”

“I can’t, Dee. I want that, too, but I can’t miss this test.”

“We haven’t seen enough of each other lately. It’s killing me to be away from you.”

“I know. Me too. I hate living in the dorm. It’s too far away.”

Dean pulls out and flips them over, positioning Cas’s hips and thighs higher in his lap before sinking inside again. “Oh, God. Dee. That’s perfect.”

“Are you going to come for me, Cas? Please, baby. I want to see you.”

Cas pulls his head down for a blistering kiss. In the middle of it, he jerks awake. 

Breath sawing in and out of his lungs, he sits up, not knowing where he is for a second. From beside him, he hears Dean murmur, “You okay, Cas?”

“Uh, yeah.” His voice is shaky from the intense dream. Although it couldn’t have been a dream. Dean was younger, which he doubts his mind would have concocted on its own. They were also talking about things that happened to them years ago. Or, he guesses.

“Hey, Dean?” 

“Yeah?”

“Did I live in the dorms at KU?”

“Yeah, for both years. It sucked because it was about 30 minutes from my house, and you didn’t have a car.”

“Did your bedroom have gray cinder block walls?”

“No, but your dorm did.”

Dean sits up. “What’s this about? Did you have a bad dream?”

“No, it was a really, really good dream,” Cas admits, lust still simmering.

Dean’s lips raise slowly in interest. “Are you going to tell me about it?”

Cas nibbles on the corner of his lip. “I think it actually might have been a memory.”

“Really?”

Cas nods and asks, “Did I used to call you Dee?”

Dean sucks in a breath at the nickname that he hasn’t heard in so long. Cas only called him that during sex, when he was keening and ready to orgasm. “Oh, fuck.”

“I did? It was a memory?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

Cas is so thrilled at the news that he throws his arms around Dean. Without even contemplating if they should, their lips meet and devour each other. The angle is awkward, so Dean pulls him over into his lap. Cas straddles his hips and grinds down as his hands clench in the short strands of his hair. Dean gets carried away for a minute because this is everything he’s wanted. Almost.

He stops them both before he wants to, panting and out of his mind with lust. “I’ve waited almost five years to be with you, Cas, but if we had sex right now, it would be a completely different experience for each of us. You would be getting off with someone you don’t know. But to me, it’s coming home. I can’t fuck you or have you fuck me when you didn’t even know you were gay a couple of days ago.”

“Please, Dean. I want you,” Cas pleads against his lips.

Dean’s only human, and he wants this man writhing against him more than anything else in the world. He caves and lets their kisses devolve into rubbing his hand over Cas’s erection through his tented boxers. The responsive moans coming from Cas send shivers through his body. He’s not going to deny them both, so even if he can’t find release, he’ll enjoy giving Cas an orgasm. He always has.

“Here, turn around. I want you to lean back against my chest.”

Cas does without hesitation. Dean tells him to take off his boxers. There’s a little hesitation that time, but still, he complies.

“I’m going to take care of you, if you’ll let me.”

“How?”

“Hand job. That’s it. I’m keeping my dick to myself.”

When Cas snuggles back against him, Dean wraps an arm around his waist, turning them at cross angles so he can jack Cas off comfortably. 

From the very first time Dean touches him with intention, Cas is lost. Dean’s hand slides possessively down his chest and stomach, not even hesitating to dip to his groin. 

“Hold on, sweetheart.” 

“To what?”

Dean’s evil chuckle vibrates through his chest into Cas. “Anything you want.”

The first light touch to the underside of his cock sends tingles of sensation through him. He fidgets and hums his appreciation. 

“Jesus, Cas. I had almost forgotten how responsive you are. I love those sounds.” Dean nuzzles into his hairline, taking in the distinct scent of him. He’s missed it so much.

When Dean makes a circle of his fingers to surround him, Cas practically melts into him. The squeeze of him gripping and sliding up the shaft makes Cas moan and hold on to the thighs bracketing him.

“Fuck, this feels good,” Cas whimpers. 

“I’m just getting started, baby. Do you want me to overwhelm you and get you off fast? Or would you rather let me play and enjoy you for as long as you can stand?”

“I don’t-I don’t know. Both.”

“Mmm. Greedy, greedy Cas.” Dean places open-mouthed kisses up the side of his neck, licking and sucking at his skin. “Good for you that I love giving you whatever you want.”

“Yes,” Cas keens as Dean’s hand moves in varying patterns. He tugs on his cock expertly, making Cas rush towards oblivion. Dean seems to know every little spot on his cock that makes him writhe and tremble. He pays special attention to the slit, dipping the tip of his finger in and rubbing. He’s using his own precum to smooth over him to reduce friction, and when that doesn’t prove enough, Dean lets spit drip from his lips into his hand. The warm, slick saliva makes Cas think of Dean’s mouth on him, and that just about does it. His back arches and he rolls his head into Dean’s neck as he shouts.

“That’s it, Cas. Come on, baby. Come for me.”

“Yes, god, yes,” Cas sighs. “Dean!”

When Cas comes, Dean is trembling. “That was so damn beautiful, Cas. I have never seen anything that gorgeous.” 

Cas’s chest is heaving as his heart races. He can’t speak, but watches intently as Dean lifts his thumb to his lips. It’s covered in Cas’s come, and Dean makes a face of sheer joy when he sucks it into his mouth. Cas lets out the most depraved moan to see it, and can’t help but kiss him with a sweeping, pillaging tongue.

After he’s come back down to earth, he tries to shift their positions. Dean holds him firm. “Let me-”

“No, Cas.”

“Why?” 

“I already told you why. Now, get some sleep.”

In the morning, while Dean builds a little fire and cooks up some of the MREs that he had in his go bag, Cas studies the rest of the bee drawings, trying to find similar code as the last drawing. His head is pounding again and twice he has to put his head down and rest.

As he copies down the molecular structures onto some takeout napkins they found in the glove box, he realizes that each one is a component of the alarm pheromone in bees. How does he know that? He knows too much about it to make sense. 

“Dean, you said I’ve studied multiple disciplines. Was one of them entomology?”

“No.”

Cas sits back, exasperated. “Why the hell do I know these formulas? Why do I know so much about bees?”

“You’ve always been fascinated by them.”

“But I didn’t study them in school?”

“Not specifically. You did take several zoology and biology classes during your Bachelors degree. Maybe you learned some of it there?”

“In graduate school I studied Biochemistry?”

“Yes, but your doctoral program was Molecular Biochemistry.”

“Do you know what my thesis was on?”

Dean frowns and looks down sheepishly. “No, I don’t. You’d just started the research, and you didn’t know what the findings would be, so you didn’t want to lead your thinking in any particular direction.”

Cas worries the topic over and over in his mind, but nothing new arises. Giving up for the moment, he switches his attention to the other images in the book. 

The pages almost glowing in the bright sunlight, he catches something odd in the fur of the sea otter page. There are two otters playing in the water, diving and swimming. When he turns the paper at different angles, he sees patterns of tiny red dots and dashes. 

“Dean! I think I found something.”

Dean leans over him, and Cas asks, “Do you think this could be Morse code?”

Taking the book and shifting it in the light, he laughs, “Yeah. I think it is.”

While Dean translates what Cas relays to him, they copy down a simple message: Fort Ord 

Dean has heard of it because it is an abandoned Army base near the Presidio. 

  
  


“Am I crazy?”

“No, Cas. You’re finding patterns. You must have hid them there because you were worried that the information you are protecting would get out. For you to go through all of these steps, to take these extreme precautions, you must have been really scared of someone finding it.”

“The more we find out, the less sure I am that we should be digging into this. We’re pulling on a rope and we don’t have a clue what is on the other end.”

“Let’s just hope it isn’t wrapped around a tiger’s tail.”

They pack up camp and head for Monterey to follow the only lead they have. 

  
  


*****


	5. Monterey

In Monterey, they buy an iPad and then decide to get a hotel instead of camping because they need the WIFI access to research their destination. It turns out that Fort Ord was an enormous base, and the majority of it was turned into a National Monument. 

“Dean, just the park section is 14,000 acres with over 85 miles of trails.”

From his position in the doorway to the bathroom, Dean tips his head back and sighs. “Of course it is.”

Cas turns and asks, “How are we going to find what we’re looking for? We don’t even know what it is.”

Coming over to sit next to Cas, Dean gives him a soft smile. “It’s okay if we don’t figure out this particular clue at the moment. There are lots of others we can work on solving, right?”

“I assume so. I can’t imagine that I would have tattooed myself and gone through all of this just for one clue.”

“Okay, so look at it this way. We had to get out of town immediately, and we needed a place to work from. This is just as good of an option as anywhere else. Let’s tackle the park today and see if we can learn anything about access to the base proper.”

“And if we don’t find anything?”

“Then we’ll start digging into your sketchbook again. I’d like to give your brain a break from the headaches if at all possible, though.”

“I’m all for that plan. Okay. Let’s hit the park.”

“But I want you to be extremely cautious while we’re here, Cas.”

“What do you mean by cautious?” 

“Listen to how suspicious you are. I just want you to wear a baseball hat when we’re in public.” Dean grabs an old, battered Oregon State cap and hands it to him. 

Cas turns his nose up at it. “Why?”

“To avoid being recognized.”

“That’s ridiculous, Dean. No one is looking for me here.”

“You don’t know that, Cas. You don’t know how this place plays into your story. What if you lived here? What if you knew people here? You have to plan for possibles, even if they aren’t probable.”

“Is that part of your Army training?” Cas snaps before shoving the cap down onto his head. Dean purses his lips. It’s unfair how good the petulant asshole looks in hats.

Cas thinks this entire plan is pointless. They’re not even looking for a needle in a haystack. They are looking for some unknown object in dozens of miles worth of haystacks, hoping that he’ll just happen to recognize it if he sees it. Oh, not to mention that his entire memory has been wiped, so he wouldn’t know his own father if he happened to stroll by.

He’s frustrated, and although being outside and exercising is helping, what he really wants feels completely out of reach. Dean is standing by his side, wearing a hat and sunglasses of his own, stoic and cold. Cas has tried to flirt, tried to ask questions that will bring back that soft blush and bitten lips that let Cas know that Dean is thinking of their past. He’s as impassive as a robot. 

He supposes that Dean being so intently focused on their surroundings is a good thing. This is a recon mission, as he’s been told multiple times. He’d just like to use the time to get to know Dean better, too. He’d like to get closer to this man that he has such intense feelings for. Feelings that he doesn’t understand in the slightest because the only other time that he remembers feeling like this was in his dream that turned out to be a memory. 

There are times when he looks at Dean and the entire world disappears. It isn’t something that he says or does, it just happens when Cas notices something new. Like, the first time he noticed that Dean’s eyes are the perfect shape with long golden lashes that match the flecks in his earthy green irises, or the time that he realized that his nose points up slightly at the tip, or when he recognized that he kept looking at that hollow in Dean’s throat because he wanted to lick it.

Dean is getting annoyed with him, he can tell. The only things he’s said to him in the past half hour have been reminders. “Don’t look so obviously. We might be on camera.” 

“I’m a tourist. I’m supposed to look at everything. That’s kind of the point.”

Dean just keeps walking. From the information they were able to cobble together, the actual base and its buildings are separate from the national park, but they are snooping around, trying to find signs off the trails that some of the old base buildings are still in use. Unfortunately, it’s impossible to tell from their distance. The property is just too massive.

Afterwards, they drive the perimeter of the entire base. Cas sketches the many different access points onto the map they have. Dean hardly looks up at him as they are mapping, just quietly points out access points, cameras, maintenance issues, and guesses as to other security. It’s obvious that recon skills were part of his training. Even though Cas hates to admit it, there were several times today when Dean had insights that never would have occurred to him, and he prevented him from doing things that would get them caught on camera. He was even cautious about leaving DNA evidence behind. 

The whole afternoon was so surreal, being in the presence of this other version of Dean, that he can’t help but mention it when they are enjoying their takeout in the hotel room. Finally, he sees him smile. 

“There you are. I thought I’d lost you.”

That wipes the smile away, which was not his intention at all. “What do you mean?” he asks around a bite of Kung Pao. 

“You were just really intense today. I know you were in ‘intelligence gathering’ mode, but it was unexpected. You were like a robot.”

Dean sighs and sets his container of food down. “I’m sorry, Cas.”

“No, don’t be sorry. You were obviously very focused. I was just surprised by how different you were. I was worried that I’d done something wrong.”

“No, it wasn’t you at all. That was what I turned into when I was in the Army. I was only just barely existing back then. I moved up through the ranks quickly while I was in the Army because I never did anything but work. I couldn’t make friends. I couldn’t let anything get behind the wall I put up, because feeling anything made it hurt too much. I could barely stand talking to Sam, so I made excuse after excuse for not being able to talk to him.”

Cas sets his food down and picks up his beer. “So you stayed away for four years?”

“Yeah, but by the time my tour was over, I knew I was coming home.”

“You didn’t enjoy it?”

Dean shrugs. “It was fine. The work was interesting enough. But once I saw behind the curtain, I realized how much our hands are tied by bureaucracy. It was incredibly frustrating.”

“I imagine.”

“So, I decided to come home and try to fix things with Sam. I didn’t handle things well when I left, and I pushed him away for years. We’re close again, but it’s taken some work.”

“I’m-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. You didn’t do this.” Dean says emphatically.

“What if I did?”

“Do you think that you’d intentionally fake your death and take your own memory? Do you believe that you could do that?” Dean slides closer to him, turning sideways to give him his full attention.

“No, but I don’t know who I really am.”

“You’re you, Cas. Every day you’re settling back into yourself more and more. I think the shock of me appearing in your life and shaking the foundation of what you knew was enough to make you seem out of character to me, but honestly, you’re you.”

“I could have changed before and now I’m reverting to my old self.”

Licking his lips, Dean leans his head on his hand. “Sweetheart, you are too kind and generous to ever be an evil mastermind.”

“I could be. I’m very smart.”

“You’re the smartest. You’re also the kindest.”

“What other superlatives do I hold?” Cas can’t help the vulnerability in the question, or his reaction to Dean’s gaze. He looks like he wants to devour Cas, and he would be thrilled to let him.

“All of the good ones. Most beautiful, Sexiest”

“I don’t think that’s anywhere close to the realm of truth.”

“It absolutely is,” Dean argues as he tucks an unruly piece of Cas’s hair back into the rest. “You just haven’t let yourself show it. I remember, believe me.” There is lust in his eyes that calls to Cas like the tidal pull of the moon. 

“I’m so unsure of myself. I can’t imagine ever feeling confident enough to be sexy.” The confession pains Dean because he isn’t kidding. Cas is brazen and bold in his sexuality, which is one of the things that he fell for. To think that he is so changed by what’s been done to him doesn’t sit well.

“C’mere.” He suggests and tugs on his hand until Cas stands as Dean leans back against the back of the couch. With a look of uncertainty, he follows Dean’s lead but doesn’t instigate anything further. 

“Without thinking about it, just do what you want to do.”

“I don’t-”

“Sweetheart, I want to kiss you. Come here, please.” Dean has spread his legs wide, hands running down his thighs, eyes burning.

Licking his lips, Cas pins him with his stare and drops a knee beside him. Tipping Dean’s chin up with one fingertip, he straddles him and drops into his lap. On his descent, their lips meet gently, sliding against each other with the barest friction. Long, elegant fingers run back through his hair, encouraging him to keep his head tilted up where Cas can take what he wants. 

“Fuck, yeah. See what I mean? That was so hot.” 

Cas stares down at the plush lips begging for him to nip and bite at them. Is that something that Dean would like? Is that weird?

“Hey, hey. Where’d you go?”

Cas sighs, looking away.

“Something derailed you. What was it?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Cas, I can guarantee that whatever you’re thinking about isn’t half as embarrassing as talks we’ve already had. We learned about sex together. We explored everything. Together. We’ve talked about all the different kinks and had to negotiate what we wanted and what we didn’t. Hell, we’ve even talked about enemas.”

He knows he’s made his point when Cas chuckles.

“Okay. Here’s the problem, though. You talked through that stuff already, but I don’t remember it. I don’t know what you like and don’t like.”

Dean nods as he’s listening. “That’s valid. How about this? Other than super kinky stuff like water sports or age play, I’m on board. If you’re still unsure, ask me.”

Cas is fidgeting in his lap and it’s starting to get to him. His hands come up to hold those sharp hip bones and keep him still. Cas recognizes the gesture for what it is, and a decidedly evil grin lifts his lips. He rocks his hips forward, pulling an open-mouthed gasp from Dean. 

“So if I’m tempted to bite those lips, you’re okay with that?”

Dean’s voice is a rumble when he answers, “I’m more than okay with it. I want it.” 

Cas licks along the seam of Dean’s lips, and he hums his appreciation. Dean is docile, letting Cas do whatever he wants. So, he cradles his head between his hands and plunders the delicious mouth beneath his. He pours all of the intensity he feels for Dean into the kiss. He sucks on his bottom lip, teases it with his canines in nibbles of increasing strength. 

When they part for breath, Cas is pleased with his handiwork. Dean’s spit shiny lips are reddened and swollen from his attentions, and the debauched look suits him.

“You are gorgeous, you know that?”

Dean huffs an airy breath. “I’m glad you think so.”

Cas lets his hands wander, down Dean’s neck, over his shoulders, and over his chest. He grins at the hissed reaction he gets to rubbing over a nipple. 

“What else do you want, Cas?”

“Right now? More of this.”

He drops his head to connect their lips again. He moans at the warmth and slickness of Dean’s mouth, of tasting this man. He doesn’t remember this. He doesn’t remember any intimacy at all, but it feels so completely right. 

Urgency builds quickly, fueled by roaming hands and rocking hips. Cas pushes Dean’s shirt up to expose his chest, and his own gets pulled off over his head. Lips are igniting every hot spot on his body, trailing down his neck with teeth and tongue. His head drops back as Dean wraps his arms around his waist. Resting his hands behind him on Dean’s knees, he grinds up against him. The friction of denim is stealing some of the pleasure, but Cas has plans to get rid of that as soon as possible. 

Standing up and away, he holds his hand down to Dean. They are both panting, wild-eyed and lost in their senses. “Take me to bed, Dean.”

His green eyes get laser-focused for a moment, and Cas knows that he’s about to call an end to their exploration. 

“Don’t say it,” he begs, but Dean does it anyway. 

“Cas, let’s just cool down for a minute.”

He wants this with Dean. He wants to be more intimate with him. Being pushed away again is irking. He runs his hands through his hair. “Why are you doing this?”

“We’ve already talked about it. It just isn’t the same for you as it is for me.”

“Which should make you want this more, shouldn’t it?”

“It’s not a more or less thing. We’re just in different places in our relationship.”

“We’re in the same relationship, Dean.” Cas snatches his shirt from the floor and puts it back on with agitation in every muscle.

“Not exactly.”

Cas rounds on him, his desire turning to anger. “Yes, we are. You and I are in a relationship, are we not?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then stop making all of the decisions for me.”

Dean’s jaw clenches, his eyes filling with different flames. 

“Let’s say I give in and we have sex.”

“I like where this is heading.”

“Do you? Do you remember having sex? Ever?”

Cas glares like an avenging angel and clenches his jaw. How dare he rub this in his face. It’s not his fault that he can’t remember.

“It’s overwhelming, Cas. To be that close to someone you love. It’s sacred.”

“And you don’t want to tarnish it with me.”

“What? No. That’s not what I meant at all.”

“Then explain it.”

Dean gets closer and looks into his eyes. “If you were inside of me and I told you that I love you, how would you feel?”

Cas opens his mouth to speak, but Dean keeps coming. “I love you so much, baby. You are everything to me, my whole world.” 

The earnestness in his voice catches Cas off guard. He steps back as Dean comes forward, putting his hands up to defend himself from the onslaught of emotion. Dean stops and lets Cas get his bearings. 

“I couldn’t take you flinching away from me like that when we’re making love. It would destroy me.” Dean’s voice sounds wrecked, but he’s shredded Cas, too. 

Pounding his hand on his chest, Cas reminds him, “Dean, it’s still me. We’re the same fucking person. I’m just not where you are yet. Can’t you dial it back until I catch up to you?”

“I’d rather wait for my Cas.”

Devastated, all of the air rushes from his lungs. He’s not good enough. Dean doesn’t want him broken. He isn’t worthy of being loved unless he’s whole.

“He’s gone, and he might never be back. You need to accept that your Cas is dead.”

The whole world goes silent. Hurt turns to ice in Dean’s eyes before he mutters that he’s going to get some air. Cas doesn’t try to stop him, doesn’t even know if he wants to. He sits down on the couch, wrung out like an old towel. 

That was quite a roller coaster ride for ten minutes. He pulls his feet up on the couch in front of him and leans his head on his knees. He is so very tired. He’s been on an adrenaline high for days now, finding out that his whole life is a lie, knowing that there are years of his life that he can’t account for. That was enough of a mind fuck, but now it turns out that he had reached out to himself through arguably either genius or insane ways to send a message. A message that he doesn’t understand.

His head begins its now familiar throb as he thinks about the clues. He intentionally chose a place that was important to him and Dean to hide the sketchbook. He picked a book that was treasured by them both to start the trail to the clues. He obviously feels as strongly for Dean as Dean does for Cas. It’s why he’s simply accepted their relationship without question. Even without any of his memories, there is something between them that is undeniable. He trusts Dean completely. He believes that they are meant to be together.

So, why is he pushing Dean? If he isn’t comfortable with more intimacy right now, why is Cas demanding it? He sighs and tries to clear his mind. What is driving this need for them to consummate their relationship now? Why is he afraid to wait? 

A sinking feeling accompanies a realization. He’s afraid that he’ll lose Dean. He’s trying to hurry their relationship so that he can get to the falling in love part. 

“Shit,” he mutters as he storms out of the hotel room. He’s desperate to catch up with Dean, apologize, and talk.

“Dr. Milton?” 

He hears the voice, but it takes the lady repeating it for him to recognize his own name. Two thoughts strike him at once. One, he needs to memorize his goddamned name. Two, Dean was right. People know him here.

He turns and, of course, doesn’t recognize the girl and her friend. Apparently, his confusion plays out on his face. 

“It’s Hannah. Hannah Overton. From the lab?” She must have been close to him judging by the hurt and confusion marring her features now.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I had a car accident some time ago, and I have some memory issues.” 

She gasps and offers her condolences. 

“I’m actually here to try to piece some of my life back together. Do you think you could maybe help me?”

“Sure. Of course.” She swallows hard and looks uncomfortable, but offers her card. 

“There’s a coffee shop close by. We could meet tomorrow and catch up?”

“That sounds lovely. I’ll call you in the morning.” He pastes on a tight smile and waves his goodbye.

The ladies whisper as they walk away, and Hannah looks back at him several times before they turn the corner. He isn’t sure if his instincts are getting better or if he’s been watching Dean long enough, but he feels that there’s something to glean from this woman.

There’s no way he’s going to catch up to Dean now, so he goes back to the room. And…he left without taking the room key. Tipping his head into the door, he notices that he’s also barefoot. Without his wallet or a phone, he’s pretty much sunk.

  
  


Dean plunges his hands into his pockets as he walks down the empty streets. His shoulders come up defensively around his ears to keep them out of the cold air. He can’t stay gone long; he doesn’t trust that Cas won’t get into trouble somehow. He seems to be a fucking magnet for it lately. Part of his mind berates the rest for having that uncharitable thought. It’s not like he intentionally brought this disaster down on himself. Dean’s just really irritated by their argument. 

It isn’t like he doesn’t want to rip every stitch of clothing away from Cas’s body, toss him into his bed, and keep him there for the foreseeable future. Cas is fucking alive, and he hasn’t been able to truly celebrate that fact. He can’t be himself around him yet because Cas doesn’t know him. He proved that point tonight when he let just a little bit of his honest emotion out. He’d bombarded Cas with it to prove a point, and the poor guy looked terrified. Cas thinks he’s ready to pick up where they left off, but he has no clue what that means for either of them.

On the other hand, he can’t imagine not giving in to the little touches and kisses that they’ve been teasing each other with. Last night, the desperation in Cas’s eyes had been enough to push him to give Cas a hand job. There’s no way he could ever leave Cas wanting and not take care of him. It had been so incredibly hot to watch him fall apart again. He’d overestimated his own ability to ignore his body’s needs afterward, though. He had hardly slept, despite being cuddled up to Cas for the first time in years. Honestly, it was more because of that fact.

Dean understands that Cas is dealing with a massive amount of uncertainty right now. He’s hurting, probably terrified, and doesn’t know who to trust. If he were in the same shoes, he’s fairly certain he’d be a paranoid mass of nerves locked behind a steel door and refusing to come out. So what if he said some things targeted to hurt Dean in the most painful way? He deserves to vent some of his anger and frustrations, and better that he vent them on the one that loves him the most. There’s nothing that Cas could say that Dean won’t forgive. He isn’t going to advertise that fact and become a punching bag, but he’ll be what Cas needs…now and forever.

When Dean turns the corner and sees Cas leaning against their beaten up car, he scowls. “Why are you outside?”

“I was waiting for you.”

Dean gets to the door and slides his key card into the lock. “Why weren’t you waiting inside?”

“I followed you to apologize, and I ran out without the key.”

Dean waves him into the room ahead of him and smiles down at his bare feet. “That’s not all you forgot.”

Cas chuckles. “Yeah, it wasn’t my most thoughtful moment.”

They stare at each other, tempers calmed and the need to reach out and soothe each other riding them both. Cas breaks the silence first. “I am sorry for what I said.”

“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

Cas nods and they tentatively embrace. Once Dean is in his arms again, he feels so much better. His masculine scent mixed with the cold ocean air is calming and it pulls a sigh out of him. The seconds tick by and neither of them seem to be ready to let go.

“Oh, I guess I should also tell you that you were right.”

“About what?”

“Someone recognized me.”

Dean pulls back to look at him then, panic touching the edges of his consciousness.

“It’s okay. She is someone I apparently worked with in a lab.”

“You didn’t recognize her?”

Cas shakes his head and hands Dean her card from his pocket while he tells the rest of the story.

“What do you think? Should we go?”

Dean taps the card against his palm while he thinks. “I think we have to. She might be able to fill in all of the gaps for you. She could know exactly where you were and what you were doing.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” Cas says while reviewing the whole event in his mind.

“But?”

Cas blinks and focuses on Dean. “But what?”

“That’s what I’m asking, sweetheart. You have that look like you’re trying to tease out the answer to a puzzle.”

Cas smirks as he receives another confirmation of just how well Dean knows him. “Well, it isn’t anything really. I just got the feeling that she was shocked to see me. Like she was looking at a ghost. It was a very strange conversation.”

“Was she in any way hesitant about giving you her card?”

“No, she was pretty quick to agree to meeting.”

“Too quick?”

“Maybe a touch.”

Dean runs a hand over his jaw. “Okay. We’ll go, but we’re going to be extra careful. Are you going to follow my plan, or are you going to roll your eyes at all of my requests?”

“It depends on how unreasonable your requests are.”

That snark earns him a stern glare. He can’t help but kiss the scowl from Dean’s lips, which softens him only marginally. “Cas, you rolled your eyes at me for asking you to wear a baseball hat. I think that’s pretty minor on the scale of evasive tactics I could ask of you.”

“Ooh. Evasive tactics. Talk spy to me, baby.” Cas teases as he sidles closer.

Dean gives him a lop-sided grin. “You’re going to be a brat now, is that it? Okay. How’s this for evasive? Pack your stuff. We’re switching hotels.”

“What? Why?”

“You were outside for god knows how long, just standing out under a freaking light. We already know that you worked around here, so there’s no telling how many other people recognized you or cameras that recorded you.”

Laughter falls from Cas’s face and he swallows hard. Dean hates that he’s the one that keeps dropping these bombs on Cas, making him somber and nervous. Keeping him safe is more important right now than letting him be playful, despite how much it hurts.

“It’s probably nothing, but I don’t want to leave it to chance.”

Cas agrees and starts packing.

  
  


  
  


Dean is enjoying his frou frou coffee more than he will admit. The cinnamon and sugar tastes as good as it smells. Across the aisle, at a booth by himself, Cas is sipping on his tea and reading the local paper. They are sitting at different tables, and they came in separately as well. It’s another precaution that he had to talk Cas into, but this situation could be a setup, and he’s not going to let him go in blind. 

Cas doesn’t know quite how far his preparations have gone because he’d kept some of the more extreme ones from him. Cas doesn’t like guns at all, which isn’t all that surprising. The plus side to that is that he doesn’t ask questions about them, which lets Dean operate under the radar to a certain extent. For instance, he doesn’t know that in addition to his sidearm, Dean has an ankle holster on. He also doesn’t know that Dean carries a bowie knife and a taser when he goes on dangerous jobs. He’d love to get his hands on a tranquilizer gun, but that’s probably going a bit far. 

In addition to these precautions, Dean also put a wire on Cas so that he could listen in on their conversation without being obvious. Right now, he’s admiring the curl of Cas’s hair as it wraps under his ear. He’s always kept it longer than Dean’s hair, but now it’s long enough to wrap his fingers in. The thought gives Dean all sorts of lovely ideas to focus on while they’re waiting. 

That soft patch of skin right below his ear is so tender and sensitive that it makes Cas shiver every time his lips find it; even more when his teeth scrape against it.

“Dean, I can feel you staring.”

The wire is one way, so Dean can’t speak back, and he’s already warned Cas not to look at him for any reason while they are in the cafe. His eyes linger over every bit of Cas that he can see, though. He is so incredibly hot, even just sitting there in jeans and a hoodie. He could be wearing a paper bag and he’d still be the hottest thing Dean has ever seen. 

“Cut it out. I’m serious, Dean. If I pop a boner here while I’m waiting for Hannah to get here, I’m going to take it out on you later.”

Dean chuckles and looks back at his phone. 

In another five minutes, a mousy woman arrives, a frantic look in her eye. Dean notices when she nervously waves at Cas and then steps up to the counter to order. He watches her surreptitiously, noting her shaking hands and darting gaze. His gut is tightening in warning, and she hasn’t even sat down yet.

At the table, she offers her hand and he shakes it, both greeting each other in a friendly manner. Her voice is tremulous, and she can’t maintain eye contact with him. That’s the second red flag, and Dean’s coffee is forgotten.

“Thank you so much for meeting me, Hannah.”

“Oh, of course. It was great to run into you. So unexpected.” 

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, but Dean stays in his seat. There’s no evidence to back up his gut instinct. She might have had a crush on Cas for all he knows. That would just as easily explain her behavior.

“I have some questions for you, if you don’t mind.”

She clears her throat and fidgets with her cup. “I don’t mind. That’s why I’m here after all.” The nervous titter grates on Dean’s nerves. You don’t laugh that hard at what you’re saying unless you’re trying too hard to convince someone that it’s true.

Cas’s aborted laugh agrees with him. “Well, I guess the simplest place to start is to ask how we know each other.”

“We worked together.”

“Yes, you mentioned a lab. Which one?”

Her eyes come up and meet his with suspicion. “The DOI Ag. Lab.” She tilts her head, studying him. “You really don’t remember this?”

“No, I’m sorry. I lost about four years of my memories, and we must have known each other during that time.”

“Fascinating,” she mutters under her breath as she shakes her head in wonder.

“When did I work there?”

“Um…I’m not sure exactly. You were already there when I arrived in 2016.”

“Did we work for the same department?”

“No, I’m in neuropharmacology.”

“In an agriculture lab? That’s unusual.”

Her back straightens defensively. “I consult on multiple projects. There are a number of practical applications that could come from agriculture.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend. I agree with you entirely.”

She settles some and takes a sip of her coffee.

“Did you consult on my project? Is that how we met?”

“No, I don’t have the clearance for that.” As soon as she says the words, her body freezes. Her eyes go wide with fear, and she looks around the shop guiltily. 

“Clearance? Security clearance? What was I working on?”

She stutters and looks around some more, “I - I don’t know.”

“C’mon. I’m sure you have an idea.”

She shakes her head vigorously. “No, we’re not allowed to discuss any of the Tier Three projects.”

When her phone buzzes with a text, she jumps and turns her phone over to hide the screen. 

Dean has seen enough. She is too jittery, and he’s not ready to believe that the people that took Cas and railroaded Amelia wouldn’t have a similar M.O. here. This woman is scared, and she probably has reason to be. He gets up out of his chair and has his hand on Cas’s shoulder in the space of a heartbeat. Leaning in, he whispers, “Let’s go. It’s too dangerous.”

Her fear escalates when she sees him approach, cringing down into the far corner of the booth. Cas turns to him, “Not yet. Just a few more questions.”

“No, you can’t go!” she states adamantly and reaches for Cas’s closest hand. Before she can reach him, Dean’s hand slams down on the table, rattling the porcelain like chattering teeth.

“Don’t. Touch. Him.” Dean speaks low and guttural, giving her plenty of pause to comprehend the seriousness of his warning..

“Hannah, please. Tell me something about the research I was doing.”

“If you stay, I can tell you more. A lot more. Why don’t you sit down with us, Mr.?”

“We’re leaving.”

“I…I can take you to the lab. Maybe if you see it, you will remember more?”

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Cas says with a smile. He looks over his shoulder to see Dean’s reaction, and his face falls. 

“Cas, you’re leaving this building in the next ten seconds. It’s up to you if you walk out on your own or I carry you.”

The death glare is back, and Cas turns back to Hannah to say his apologies as he stands.

“I’m so sorry, Hannah. I’ll call you later and explain.”

“No, please. It’s been so long and we haven’t really had a chance to talk.”

Dean grabs him by the hand and turns him toward the back door. With the massive wall of muscle at his back, walking steadily and swiftly forward, Cas has no choice but to walk out the door and into the parking lot.

“What the hell, Dean?” Cas rounds on him as soon as they are outside. “I was getting information out of her.”

“No, she was stalling, trying to keep you there.”

“You are the most paranoid man alive,” Cas scoffs and runs a hand through his hair. “Do you trust anyone?”

Dean is about to respond with a snarky retort when he hears a gunshot. Diving to take Cas down to the ground, he holds his body up over him, protecting him in case something should fall from above. Something shatters nearby, closer to their location than the first shot. He hears Cas’s erratic breathing from below him, and when he looks down, he sees the depth of his panic. Wild eyes are roving everywhere and he’s swallowing hard to keep the nausea at bay.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean says softly and tips Cas’s head up to meet his eye. He puts a finger to his lips and waits until Cas nods his understanding before he leans down to his ear. “I’ve trained for this. I’ve been in lots of situations worse than this. Just do everything I say, and we’ll be fine. I won’t let them hurt you.”

Cas grabs onto him and clutches him close. Dean can feel his heart try to bang its way out of his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes that they had had a chance to give Cas some basic field training so that these situations weren’t so terrifying to him. Dean lets him cling for a moment, letting Cas use him as a security blanket. But time isn’t on their side here. They need to not be in the same position when the shooter comes to look for them.

“We have to move, sweetheart.” Dean whispers directly in his ear and brushes his lips against his temple. Cas is still just laying there with glassy eyes and stuttered breath. It could be shock causing him to freeze, but Dean has to get him out of here, and he’s not going to move and hope that Cas follows. He will keep himself between Cas and the shooter every step of the way. He knows that they won’t hesitate to shoot him, but it will give Cas a chance to escape even if they do.

Dean hates to push him, but he rolls Cas over onto his stomach, half underneath the car next to them, and shoves him forward. Cas still isn’t moving, so Dean crawls next to him. Gesturing to Cas that he needs to watch how Dean moves, he crawls forward a few feet and then gestures again for Cas to try it. It’s awkward, crawling on your belly underneath cars, but it’s the safest way to navigate through the parking lot. Keeping his eye out for shadows that move, Dean keeps prodding Cas from car to car to get as far away from their initial position as possible.

If this wasn’t such a busy area with a cacophony of street noise, there’s no way that this would work. Their bodies are dragging and scuffing along the pavement, and it’s impossible to make it any quieter than they are. 

They get all the way to the corner of the lot, just a few yards away from an alleyway between buildings, when they hear a muttered curse from the direction they came from. 

“Dr. Milton, why don’t you give yourself up? It would be a whole lot easier than me having to kill your bodyguard.”

Cas’s expression turns from fear to devastation. Dean’s seen that look enough to know that he’s about to be a martyr.

“Cas, so help me, if you make so much as a sound, I’m going to gag you and carry you out of here.”

Dean is pinned by Cas’s righteous indignation. They are filthy and hiding from a killer, and still Dean is in awe of his Cas. Blue fire clashes with his will, but Dean smiles. “He is lying,” Dean mouths.

Planning an escape without actually talking is difficult, but they manage. Dean slips out from under the car slowly, causing hardly a sound. Rolling up to crouch on the balls of his feet, he peeks over the edge of the window to see their shooter. He’s looking in the opposite direction, so he waves Cas out. Dean takes his gun out of the holster and unlatches the safety before he nods for Cas to make a break for the alley. Once Cas has made it safely around the corner, he starts backing toward the same target. 

By a miracle of luck or fate, the shooter doesn’t notice that they’ve left. 

Cas wants to run, sprint away from danger, but Dean says that it would call attention to them. So, they walk briskly. Dean won’t let him turn around, either. They have to look inconspicuous. Not knowing what could be coming behind them is making Cas’s skin crawl. When they make it to their hotel door, Dean is in efficient, no-nonsense military mode.

“Pack. We’re out of here in two minutes, not a second longer.”

That’s all the comfort that he offers. Cas knows it will be different later. When they prove to be safe, Dean will hold him and kiss him and whisper sweet reassurances, but Cas is trembling and his mind is having trouble making the right connections. He feels fuzzy and sick, and he just needs a little comfort. As he passes by, Dean puts his arms around him, pulling Cas back to his chest. They both take a beat and breathe. With a quick kiss on the nape of his neck, Dean is moving on. It only took a few seconds, but it was just what Cas needed. 

  
  


It’s like Destiny is calling to them when they take the road through the mountains to the East and find a small farm town called Dean. It doesn’t have much more than a small downtown strip, a post office, and a farm to table restaurant, but they decide to stay there. There isn’t much of a hotel there, just an old Red Roof Inn that’s changed hands enough to show signs of several color schemes and logos blending into a chaotic mess.

When Dean shuts the door behind them and turns on the AC, Cas flops down on the closest bed and lets his mind go blank. 

Dean chuckles while he pulls him back up to sitting. “Not yet, Cas. We need to capture everything you learned.”

“I didn’t learn anything. You made me leave too fast.”

Dean crawls up on the bed behind Cas and slots his legs on either side of Cas’s thighs. Wrapping his arms around him and tugging him as close as he can, Dean snuggles into the hollow of his neck and sighs. 

“Are you really going to fault me for that after what happened in the parking lot?”

“No, this day has just sucked major ass and I want to go to sleep and pretend none of it is real.”

Dean huffs a laugh and kisses below his ear, which makes goosebumps break out all along his skin. 

  
  


“Unfortunately, that won’t help us find the answers you want now, will it?”

“No, but I really didn’t find out much. Besides, weren’t you listening?”

“I caught a little bit, but honestly I was too busy watching her body language. It had me on edge from the second she walked in.”

“She seemed nervous, but nothing really concerned me. But, what do I know?” Cas lets himself go lax against Dean. He’s so close to calling off this search and taking Dean up on the offer to just disappear together. If it weren’t for the fact that they’d have to leave Sam, he’s sure it wouldn’t be hard to convince him.

“You know more than you think. Here, let’s try something.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes and think back to the cafe. Think about what it sounded like, smelled like. Try to recreate it down to what was in front of you on the table.”

“Okay.” Cas isn’t a big believer in these visualization exercises, but he’ll try.

“What color was your tea cup?”

“It was white.”

“What sounds do you hear?”

“There is classical music playing, and I hear people talking. Especially the table on the other side of the half wall from me”

“What are they saying?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Look down at your paper. What is it called?”

Cas strains to remember, “The… Monterey Herald.”

“What article are you reading?”

“It’s about funding for expanding the education department at the aquarium.”

“How do you feel about what you are reading?”

“It makes me happy that the next generation will have a chance to learn about the animals that live in the oceans.”

“What are the people at the table talking about?”

“One of them wants to play golf, but the others want to go down to the beach. They are tourists and they only have the day to spend in Monterey.”

“See? You did know something.”

Cas opens his eyes and it takes a second for the hotel room to resolve around him. He’s never been able to recall a memory that clearly before. “I concede. I might know something useful.”

Dean gets him relaxing again and questions him for over twenty minutes. In addition to the bits that he heard, Dean manages to pull information about her work ID that was on a lanyard in her bag, and the name Crowley that popped up on the text that she received at the table.

When he said the name out loud, Cas hissed at the immediate onset of a painful headache. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Dean says and then denies Cas’s attempts to keep talking. “It’s not worth you being in pain.”

“His name triggered a big one, doesn’t that make you curious?”

“Of course it does, but I’ll use another method to gather some answers while you get that head under control.” He and Cas scoot up on the bed so that he can lay him down on the pillow and wrap him up in the blanket he found folded up in the closet. As soon as Cas is comfortable, Dean calls Charlie.

“What’s up, Red?”

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite dick!” she replies. 

“That’s still not funny, Charlie.”

“One of these days, you’ll get it.”

“I get it, it’s just not funny.”

She sighs heavily and asks, “What can I do for you?”

“Can you look into the Department of the Interior Agriculture Labs in Monterey?”

“Sure…What do you want me to find out?”

“Anything you can. I think that’s where they might have been keeping Cas.”

“In a lab?”

“Well, we found someone that apparently worked with him. She was sketchy as hell when we met with her, and when we left, someone shot at us.”

“Holy shit! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it was a little too exciting, but we’re unscathed.”

“This time,” her voice is serious like he’s hardly ever heard it. “You need to be very careful, Dean.”

“I’m aware.”

“Okay, I’ll get on this right away.”

“Oh, would you also look into someone named Crowley associated with the lab?”

“First or last name?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Dean admits and rubs his fingers over his tired eyes.

“I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

When he hangs up, he takes off his shoes and slips onto the bed beside Cas. He doesn’t intend to sleep, just close his eyes and think, but being next to the love of his life has always put him at such ease. He slips away despite it being the middle of the day.


	6. Fishing for Clues

Charlie’s call back wakes him up as the sun is making its descent toward the horizon. 

“So, there isn’t a DOI lab of any kind in Monterey.”

“We can’t catch a break, can we?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Winchester. There are a few in the area. The closest one to Monterey is in Waterford, about thirty miles east of Modesto.”

“I don’t understand. Why would Hannah be in Monterey if she worked way out there?”

“I don’t have an answer to that. I looked into Hannah Overton, and she appears to be exactly what she said. She’s still swimming in student loans from her overpriced graduate school, and she lives in Monterey.”

Aggravated by the lack of information, he braces himself for more disappointment. “Did you find anything on Crowley?”

“No. Nothing. There isn’t a Crowley employed by the DOI in the entire country.”

“So either they are hiding or they don’t work there.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

  
  


“That didn’t sound like good news,” Cas observes as he stretches and blinks his eyes open. 

“Not really. The lab is in Waterford. Ring any bells?”

Cas furrows his brow and thinks. “No. Is that far from here?”

“It’s another 50 or 60 miles.”

Cas sits up and crawls over to where Dean is sitting on the edge of the bed. In a reverse of their previous position, Cas wraps his arms around his back and pulls him close. 

“That’s quite a commute.”

“I thought so, too.”

“When are we going to check it out?” Cas asks as he busies himself with running his hands under Dean’s t-shirt and over the muscles of his chest. Dean leans back against Cas and noses against his neck. That sweet honey scent teases him from the deeper contours of his body.

“Tomorrow, if we can find what we need here tonight.”

“What do we need?” 

“Just some gear to make some hunting blinds and another pair of binoculars.”

“Would Walmart have that?”

“It might be our only option. My namesake town doesn’t seem to be thriving,” he teases.

Cas flicks a grin in his direction, but that beautiful mind is racing. “How about we spend the night in and we can shop on our way out of town in the morning?”

“I know I’m spoiling you with this luxury,” Dean laughs as he gestures around the mismatched room with a rusty tub and spray-painted gold bed frame. “But you don’t want to stretch your legs and get some fresh air?”

Cas tips his head against Dean. “No. I don’t want to be out in public right now.”

Dean pulls away just enough to face Cas. “It’s understandable, Cas. We can stay here as long as you need, okay?”

“I just don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“How can I help?”

Cas bites the corner of his lip and lifts his eyes. The heat in them makes Dean blink a few times to get on top of the answering flames. “Cas…” he warns gently. 

“Will you teach me something?” There is a delicate blush edging his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and Dean knows he will do whatever Cas is asking. There’s no way that he will say no to this vulnerability.

“Sure. What do you want to know?”

“I want to learn how to give a blow job.”

The air punches out of Dean’s lungs and he experiences what must be lightheadedness due to a lack of oxygen to his brain. White spots dance in his vision as he sputters and tries to respond. 

“I’ve been thinking about it for awhile now, and I’ve watched some porn, but I don’t think I’m quite ready for all of that.”

“No. Not many people are,” Dean concurs with a touch of pink of his own. He’s picturing Cas down on his knees sucking him, just like he’s seen a thousand times before. He’s feeling the rumbling moans come from the heated cavern surrounding him with perfect slick suction.

“It isn’t technically sex, right? Would that be okay?”

“W-why?”

“I’m tired of not knowing anything. I know I’ll learn eventually, but it’s incredibly frustrating not to know things that a man my age should know.”

“Do you know how to play tennis?”

Cas tilts his head with a huff. “No.”

“Yes, you do. We played at least once a week for the last couple of years before -” Dean purses his lips and refuses to finish the sentence.

“I’m not seeing the point.”

“I’d be willing to bet that if I put a tennis racket in your hand, it wouldn’t take you long to get up to speed.”

There is silence between them for a moment until Cas shoves him away with a curse and crawls to the other side of the bed. He only makes it halfway before Dean pulls his legs out from under him. 

“What was that for?”

Cas kicks a leg to get away from his grip, and he connects with his shoulder.

“Ow! Easy.”

Still struggling, Cas spits out, “You compared giving a blow job to tennis, Dean.”

“I was giving you an example of a skill.”

“Condescending asshole,” Cas twists and gets out of Dean’s grip. He hops over the edge and storms into the bathroom with a slam of the door.

He can admit that his delivery was lacking. He’d just been taken by surprise when Cas suggested it. There aren’t many things that he likes better than Cas giving him head. He’s damn near masterful and he loves it enough to make it so fucking good for Dean. If Dean gives in, though, then there’s not really another barrier between them and fully penetrative sex. This is a line in the sand that he didn’t want to cross, but now that he’s come up to it, he can see how easy it can be to step right over it.

Even though it pissed him off to hear Cas say that his Cas might never come back, he’s been thinking about it. It is very, very likely that whatever these people did to Cas isn’t reversible. He needs to stop living in a world of maybe and live the life that is right in front of him. His best friend and boyfriend is alive. He might not remember everything about their past, but there’s no denying that he’s the same person. 

Dean decides to let go of his ‘perfect reunion’ with the Cas from his memories. Instead, he’s going to be in the moment with the Cas who is here and wanting him. 

He pads over to the bathroom and knocks quietly on the door. 

“Go away and let me sulk, Dean.”

“Will you come out and talk to me?”

“Not interested.”

“Can I talk to you through the door, then?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Cas!”

It’s silent for a minute, which he knows is as much of an apology as he’s going to get. “I’m sorry about the comparison. I had a point, but you’d kind of scrambled my brain with your request, and I didn’t explain myself well.”

He hears Cas scoff at the understatement. A smile tugs on his lips. Cas’s spirit is indomitable and it makes him so damned happy to see it shine in all of its bratty glory.

“My point is that as soon as you try something that you knew how to do, like tennis or giving blow jobs, you’ll realize that it’s already a skill you possess. I don’t really need to teach you anything.”

“What if that isn’t the case?”

Dean brackets his hands on the doorframe. “Then I’ll teach you. It’s only fair. You taught me.”

The door opens suddenly. Cas is too curious to let that statement go unquestioned. “I thought we learned about sex together?”

“We did, but you taught me exactly what turned you on the most, how to make you feel like a king. I learned from the best.” Dean winks at him and invades his space until Cas steps back out of the way, pulling his shirt over his head as he goes. Looking over his shoulder, he recognizes suspicion in Cas’s eyes. He supposes that he has plenty of reasons not to trust this more open version of him.

Popping the button on his jeans, he leans over into the shower to turn the water on. “Let’s get cleaned up, and then you can practice on me if you want.”

“You’re saying yes?”

Dean grins. “As if I’d turn down having your mouth on me. I’m not insane, Cas.”

“You were trying to let me down easy with all of that tennis bull shit. What changed?”

Dean wanders back to where Cas is frozen in the doorway and helps him get undressed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night. Waiting for something that might not ever happen seems like the wrong way to handle this. I should be celebrating that you’re here, that you’re alive, not waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Cas is listening intently, trying to be sure that Dean is really saying what he’s been waiting to hear. “And you’re sure? You aren’t going to regret this tomorrow and be angry?”

Dean pushes Cas’s jeans down so they pool around his calves. Squatting down in front of him, he lifts each leg in turn to pull the bunched material away. Cas leans down on his shoulder to keep his balance. “No, baby. I’m done worrying about how and what and why. I just want us to get to know each other again. I need to relearn things about you, too. I’ve changed a lot in five years, and I’m sure you have to.”

“Not that I would know.”

Dean stands and gives him a smile that crinkles in the corners of his eyes. “I’ll tell you if I notice. C’mon. We’re both disgusting from crawling around on the ground.”

“Oh, bleah. I’d almost forgotten about that.”

Cas follows Dean and watches avidly to see the last of his skin revealed. He drops his boxer briefs without any fanfare and Cas’s eyes go wide. Dean is thick and long, and while a cock of that size scares him, it also makes his mouth water. It’s as if two versions of him are sharing the same skin. One, the experienced and accomplished lover who has seen this man naked thousands of times. The other a nervous virgin who has never seen a man’s cock besides his own outside of porn, and he only just recently started to watch that, more out of curiosity than any desire to get off.

As his eyes travel down the planes of Dean’s body, cataloging and familiarizing himself with every inch, he is thankful that Dean silently lets him look his fill. When he comes back to Dean’s face, his features show nothing but serene patience. 

Cas steps into the water and waits for Dean to crowd against his back. He shivers at the feeling of skin pressing against skin. Dean is just slightly taller than him, but he’s never felt his height more than in this moment. They slot together perfectly as Dean fills his hands with soap suds and runs them over Cas’s torso and chest. With a content hum, Cas leans his hands against the wall in front of him and concentrates on the sensations that Dean’s hands are causing. They are hot and rough; hard-working hands that Cas loves to feel on him.

Once Dean is done lathering him up and rinsing him off, it’s Cas’s turn. He takes his time, delighting in the way Dean’s muscles jump under his fingers. His typically stoic love has laughter and joy shining from his eyes. It’s breathtakingly beautiful to see. When he slides slick hands past Dean’s waist and over the gorgeous curve of his ass, Dean winks at him. 

Narrowing his gaze, Cas teases, “I don’t think I want to know what’s going through your head right now.” 

Dean barks out a laugh. “Probably not. It’s the reason why we don’t have sex in showers anymore.”

Cas’s mouth parts in surprise. “Oh. Did it require a hospital visit?”

“No, but it probably should have.” Dean points to his forehead, showing Cas a scar that runs down along his hairline.

“Ouch.”

“It’s okay. You kissed it better.” 

Cas drops to his knees to wash Dean’s legs, flushing with heat when he reaches his groin. He sucks in a breath as he tentatively runs his hands over Dean’s cock, stroking gently and trying to keep the touch more about bathing and less about exploration. When he goes back down the other leg, Dean quietly says, “You can touch me, Cas. I know you’re curious.”

Sitting back on the balls of his feet, Cas looks up. Dean’s expression changes swiftly. He looks to be in agony, the kind that he would beg for. Cradling the side of Cas’s face tenderly, Dean says vehemently, “God, I missed you. I can’t believe we get to be together again.”

Leaning into the touch, Cas closes his eyes. “I get to fall in love with you all over again.”

Helping Cas up to his feet, Dean pulls him into a possessive kiss. They step under the water without separating, rinsing soap from their bodies as quickly as possible while connected at their lips and so much skin. Cas is getting dizzy with all of the possibilities in his reach. 

“Let’s get out. I have so much I want to try.” Cas flips the water off and reaches for towels. He pushes one into Dean’s hands and then does a not so thorough job on himself. Stepping out of the shower and onto the wet floor makes him slip in his haste, but he just laughs and barges ahead into the bedroom.

Dean lets out a hearty chuckle. “Take it easy on me, Cas. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“I somehow think that is going to work in both of our favors.”

Dean follows behind him, still drying his hair, and he almost swallows his tongue. Cas is kneeling on a pillow, facing the bed. He’s trying to suppress the energy of a puppy, excitement leaking from his pores. Dean walks to the other side of him and sits in the spot Cas obviously wants him to occupy. Looking down at the heat flushed skin of his boyfriend is the best kind of deja vu. They’ve been in these positions and their reverse a thousand times, but for Cas, this is all brand new. 

“You are the most beautiful sight,” Dean smiles. 

“You like me anxious and insecure?” Cas tries to laugh it off, but Dean can tell that his teasing mirrors his thoughts all too well. 

“I like you within reach. I like you looking at me like that,” Dean corrects as he rubs his thumb over Cas’s bottom lip.

Cas blinks a few times and heaves a deep breath out of his lungs, trying to expel some of his nervous energy. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Should I guide you?”

Cas meets his eye quickly and flushes more. Jesus, this shy version of Cas is killing him. He doesn’t know how to handle him at all. He wants to protect him and debauch him, at the same time and in equal measure. It’s disconcerting. 

Nodding his approval, Cas’s shoulders seem to drop a little. Good. Dean will help him get started. Pushing his thumb between Cas’s teeth, he gently pushes on his jaw. “Open up for me, sweetheart.”

Cas does as he asks, trust in his gaze. Dean scoots forward on the bed, making the angle better for Cas. Taking his now fully hard erection in his left hand, he guides it to Cas’s lips. Resting there, just a kiss of connection, Dean quietly says, “If you decide you don’t want to do this, or don’t like something, I want to know immediately.”

“Okay.” When Cas opens his mouth to agree, Dean’s cock tips inside. Almost immediately, his tongue greets the velvety head with curiosity. Dean sighs and moves his hand to the side of his face to cradle his jaw. Cas has a tendency to stretch his jaw too wide and give himself an unnecessary ache, so he wants to watch that for him.

Cas isn’t sure what he thought this would be like, but so far, it’s just like kissing any other body part. Although Dean has assured him that he’s received hundreds of them, he doesn’t actually remember receiving a blow job, which makes this rather challenging. He isn’t sure what to do with this big, hard dick in his mouth. His only sexual knowledge comes from his own jerk off sessions and the singular best memory of his life so far, the hand job Dean gave him the other night.

He imagines that sucking has something to do with it, based on what he’s heard in porn. Licking down the side of the shaft, he comes back to the tip and sucks it into his mouth. Dean responds with eyelashes that flutter and drop while he moans his appreciation. That simple reaction fills Cas with bravery. He pushes Dean deeper into his mouth and swirls his tongue around him before creating suction and lifting up to the tip again. This time, Dean’s fingers clench against his face in an involuntary need to pull him closer. He fights it and gentles his touch, but it makes Cas feel even more powerful. 

“I knew you’d remember,” Dean whispers.

“I don’t, though.”

“You’re following your instincts, right?”

Cas nods and continues nuzzling and kissing the damp skin that twitches whenever he makes contact. A crystal pearl of pre come beads up at the tip, and he knows innately that watching him lap it up will drive Dean wild. He makes a show of collecting the drop on his tongue and then closes his mouth around it. Dean groans in response.

“Fuck, that’s so hot, Cas.”

He refuses to be pulled away from his task now that he’s getting the hang of it, so he simply looks up under his lashes and winks at Dean. He receives a chuckle and then a breathy curse when he drops down to cover his entire shaft with his mouth. 

He’s heard of gag reflexes being a problem, of course he has, so he’s cautious about how far he tries to take Dean in. With every bob of his head, he gets a little deeper, takes a little more, until he feels a little tickle at the back of his throat. Knee-walking even closer to Dean allows him to move his hands. They are supporting him, but he’d rather get them on Dean. One goes to the base of his cock to keep it steady, and the other runs up Dean’s thigh and around his back. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck, you are so good.”

Cas wouldn’t believe the words if he couldn’t hear the devastation in Dean’s tone. He’s being wrecked by Cas’s mouth, and it feels marvelous to have this effect on him. This is so much better than he’d dared to dream. The sharp bitterness of precome isn’t his favorite thing, but it’s not off-putting, either. The heavy weight of Dean’s cock in his mouth is comforting instead of invasive. The scent of Dean’s skin is clean and masculine. Being this close to him, giving him pleasure, is something that Cas can picture himself doing often because he’s truly enjoying it. From the sounds coming from Dean and the way his head has dropped back, he’s fairly certain that Dean won’t have a problem with it, either.

“Cas, stop for a second.”

He follows the request literally. He stops but doesn’t pull off. 

“I’m already close, and I don’t want to surprise you by coming in your mouth, okay? So, the next time I say stop, I’m going to pull out and finish myself.”

That gets Cas to move. “No, I want to do this all the way.”

Dean tilts his head, “Cas, you don’t have to prove anything. Have you ever tasted come?”

“You told me that I’ve done this hundreds of times, so I must have.”

“But you don’t remember it?”

“No, but how bad could it be? Did I not like it before?”

Shrugging, Dean admits, “You seemed to enjoy it, but it took awhile to get to that point.”

“Dean,”

“I just don’t want to ruin this moment, Cas. It’s been amazing, and you are really getting into it. I don’t want to do something to make you hesitant to do it again.”

Cas grins and licks his lips. “I’m not going to be hesitant. I promise. I’m enjoying this way too much.” 

To emphasize his point, he points his tongue and dips it into the slit of Dean’s cock head and wiggles it until he collects some more of the fluid and swallows. Dean is staring down at him with the most serene expression. 

“I wish I could hear what you’re thinking,” Cas murmurs before continuing his ministrations.

“Not thinking. Remembering.”

Cas stops moving and waits for Dean to explain. 

Running his fingers through the inky strands, he continues with a smirk. “We used to compete over everything. Anything. It was always for fun, neither of us really cared who won. One night, you wanted to see who could give the best blow job. We decided to time each other and make it official. Whoever got the other to orgasm first won. That’s what I was thinking about.”

Dean’s gentle hands make it difficult to focus, and he’s dying to know, “Who won?”

The arrogant glint in his eye is enough to tell him, but Dean tops it with a waggle of his eyebrows. “I did, and I’ll show you how in a minute.”

Rolling his eyes, Cas gets back to the task at hand. It takes a minute to sink back into the right frame of mind. He can’t help the niggling thought at the back of his mind asking what Dean’s blow job will feel like. He can’t fucking wait to find out.

Finally, he settles into a rhythm that Dean definitely approves of. He’s panting and moaning, raining praise down on Cas. 

The hand on Dean’s back is in constant motion, caressing his skin with a delicate touch. He slips his fingers lower and lets his middle finger tease the crease of his ass cheeks. Immediately, Dean groans and melts into his touch. Cas almost grins at finding such a hot button. 

Cas hasn’t ever touched himself back there, not in a sexual way, so he doesn’t have the slightest clue of what Dean finds pleasurable. He’s just going to have to experiment. He’s a scientist, after all. He slides the finger lower on the next pass, dipping into the space between his cheeks. The response from Dean is delightful. More lovely sounds. He coasts even lower, running his finger over Dean’s hole and his cock almost pops free from his mouth when Dean cants backwards into the touch. 

“Yes, god, yes, Cas. I can’t wait for you to fuck me again. I’ve missed it so much.” Cas moans at the thought of being inside of Dean. He rubs over the delicate skin repeatedly, loving the stream of babbling that Dean has devolved into.

“Your mouth is perfect. It’s been too long, baby. Fuck, I’m almost there.”

Dean is rocking subtly, back against his finger and forward into his mouth. Cas moves with him, adding some power to the strokes. Dean tenses and his balls draw up tight against Cas’s hand. He knows that he’s about to watch Dean orgasm. Watching his face with rapt attention, he can hardly breathe. Dean is so beautiful given over to his desire. His mouth is dropped open, his eyes shut. There’s a gorgeous flush to his skin that Cas wants to kiss, and with a shout, Dean’s cock kicks and fills his mouth with salty come. 

Even knowing that it’s coming, it’s a bit of a shock, and for a second, Cas isn’t sure what to do. He swallows, and realizes that he did it. He gave a successful blow job. Pride fills him, and then he concentrates on what he likes in the midst of an orgasm. His mouth stays on Dean, but he gentles the contact. Continuing to swallow the trickles of come as they spurt, he lazily licks his way up, down, and around the pulsing cock. 

Dean sighs in contentment and flops back on the mattress. “There’s no way that was your first time. You must have muscle memory or something, because that was spectacular, Cas.”

Feeling quite sexy after so much praise, Cas climbs onto the mattress on top of Dean and cages him in with his body. “I think you’re being overly kind, but I’m glad you liked it.”

Dean grins. “So, what do you think? Did you like it?”

Cas rubs his erection along the crease of Dean’s hip with a heated look. “I really, really did.”

“Excellent. Now it’s my turn.” Without a warning, Dean flips Cas over on his back, pulling an undignified squeak out of him. Through his laughter, Dean confesses. “I’m going to warm up a little before I try anything fancy. I haven’t done this in five years.”

“You haven’t given a blow job in five years?”

Dean stops, his brow furrowed. “Cas, I haven’t done anything sexual with anyone else. You’re the only one.”

Cas sits up, his eyes gone comically wide. “Dean, you thought I was dead. Why wouldn’t you-”

“Don’t.” 

Cas looks into the most sincere, guileless gaze. “I am in love with you, baby. There’s no one else for me.”

He wants to argue. He wants to pick apart the statement and convince Dean that he would have wanted him to be happy. He would have understood if Dean had found someone when he thought Cas was gone forever. But, he doesn’t get the chance. Dean kisses him with a combination of heady desire and languid satiation. It derails everything in Cas’s brain except the need for more.

Dean breaks from the kiss eventually and Cas lets him make his way slowly down his body. His lips are worshipful and adoring, and it is so good to relax into these new sensations and just feel. Cas groans as his big hands join the caress, holding him with infinite care but obviously strained with lust.

This is so new. Being wanted like this, desired, is such an overwhelming thing that Cas has trouble processing it. How could this gorgeous creature be so overcome with passion for him? Dean is the epitome of masculine beauty, and Cas is lucky enough to have him kissing his body with abandon. As soon as Dean makes it to his groin, the soft, teasing touches cease. 

Looking up the line of his body, Dean pushes Cas’s legs open wide and pulls his body towards him with a sharp tug on his hips. It shocks a gasp out of Cas. He feels vulnerable in this position, which becomes worse as Dean gives him a predatory grin. He is resting on his elbows, his hands running underneath Cas’s legs to let his fingertips come up and brush the sides of his stomach. There’s no way that he could get away from Dean right now with the firm grip he has on him. 

“Damn, I have been wanting to get my hands on you again for so long.” The flames in his eyes catch and light the embers in Cas’s body. He’s burning up, close to mad with the need to feel Dean’s mouth on him. His back arches as he breathes erratically, begging for Dean’s touch. 

“No need for that, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

The first touch of his lips leaves Cas breathless. The air flows out of him and he can’t force more air in for fear that he will distract Dean from this heavenly sensation. A broken wail comes from him, despite the lack of oxygen, when he feels Dean’s wet tongue lick along the length of his shaft. 

“Holy fuck,” he keens when he catches a breath. “Dean, this is- nngghh.”

He vaguely hears a proud chuckle over the whoosh of blood in his ears. Dean has engulfed his entire erection, his nose rubbing against the trimmed hair at the base. Cas couldn’t have dreamed something this good. It’s utterly devastating to feel his cock completely sheathed in Dean’s mouth. Now he understands why men talk about this so much. It’s addicting. 

“Yes, fuck. Dean. So good, so fucking good.”

Dean slides back slowly, letting Cas get acclimated to the squeeze of his lips and the subtle suction. His eyes flick up to watch his strong jaw fall open on a gasp, his hands fist in his hair to ground himself, his pillowy lips form words that don’t make it to his ears. Cas is a feast for his senses and he wants to taste everything on display.

Now that he’s warmed up, he wants to blow Cas’s mind. Pulling off for a second, he asks him, “Can you stand up for a minute?”

“Wha- What?”

Dean chuckles at how foggy his brain is in the middle of sex. Crawling up his body, he kisses him firmly and repeats the request. “Stand up for me?”

“I thought you were-”

“I am, sweetheart. I want to show you another position. You’re going to love it.”

Cas blinks a few times and then complies. As he’s clamoring off the bed, he mutters, “That position was working really well for me, by the way.”

Dean pops him on the ass as he passes, “Stop complaining. I’m about to let you fuck my face.”

“Are you serious?”

Dean belly laughs at the cartoonish reaction on Cas’s face. He couldn’t look more like a lecherous wolf if he tried.

“Yes, I’m serious.” Dean turns on the bed and flops on his back near the edge of the bed. Beckoning with his arms, Dean encourages him to get close. Dean’s head drops back off the edge, and guides Cas’s cock to his lips. “Widen your stance. You’re too tall.”

Cas shuffles his feet apart until he is lower. Dean guides him to lean his hands on the bed near his shoulders. 

“Okay, Cas. Push forward from the hips.” He looks down and slightly behind him, watching his cock sink into Dean’s wide open mouth. He’s being cautious, not wanting to hurt him or choke him. Even just the couple of inches he has thrust in feels phenomenal. He readies himself to pull back, and lightning quick, Dean grabs his hips to stop him. Instead, he pushes Cas forward. Hard. Rough. 

“Fuck. Oh fucking hell, Dean.”

Dean’s holding him in his bottomed out position, swallowing around his cock. He sees stars, his vision goes white, and he shouts his pleasure to the entire hotel. 

When he needs to breathe, Dean pushes his hips back and takes in air through his nose. Cas needs the reprieve to bring his brain back online. Then he guides Cas into a fairly vigorous rhythm of thrusting into his mouth. Once he takes initiative on his own, Dean lets go. 

“Yes…oh god, Dean. This is so fucking perfect.” The room feels too bright and out of sync with what’s going on inside his body. He feels high, or what he assumes it must be like. He’s trembling, full of adrenaline, and he never wants to leave the cradle of Dean’s body. He’s completely overcome by what he’s feeling. “I had no idea…so good…you feel so good.”

Dean hums, sending vibrations through his body, pulling a high wail from him. Dean grips one of his hands and brings it to his throat. Cas isn’t sure what he’s up to until he clamps down on his fingers. 

“Oh, shit. I can feel my cock. Oh fuck…Dean. I can feel it.”

Every thrust sends his lust higher, pleasure ripping through him like a destructive force. “I’m going to come. Oh shit. I don’t want to stop.” 

Dean grabs his hips again, keeping him firmly buried in his mouth and throat. Cas tries to pull back, but Dean has him held tightly. He can’t think, can’t argue, can’t speak, can only move his hips in a way he didn’t think he knew how. Closing his eyes is the only way he can handle this much all-encompassing sensation. Speeding up his thrusts, he tips over the edge, moaning through a violent, shaking release. 

He is sucking air into his lungs, trying desperately to catch his breath as Dean takes over again. He is taking Cas slowly and gently now. Light suction giving way to teasing licks. When Cas jerks back from oversensitivity, Dean finally lets him pop out of his mouth, and he wipes the drool away.

“Holy shit, Dean,” Cas breathes and falls onto the bed beside him. 

Dean chuckles and sits up. “You liked that, did you?” he rasps. He sounds like he’s been gargling knives, but it was totally worth it to see the look on Cas’s face.

Cas looks at him like he has all the secrets of the universe. Amazement and wonder are concentrating on him, and he feels his heart squeeze. Cas shouldn’t be surprised by how amazing sex feels. He should have been here, with him, for the past five years while they continued their sexual exploration and enjoyment together. 

Dean feels so cheated. More than that, though, Cas has been wronged, which is worse. Someone took his life away from him and that makes Dean burn with rage. He gets himself in check immediately so he doesn’t ruin this moment for Cas. Laying down next to him, he pulls him closer.

Cas touches his lips reverently and meets them with his own. After a few gentle kisses, Cas asks, “Is it always like that?”

“Like what, Cas?”

“Life-altering?” he teases, but only a little bit.

Dean gives him a shit-eating grin in response. “Aww. Your praise is going to go straight to my head.”

“I don’t think you need any more ego-stroking, Dean.”

“As long as you’re stroking something,” he teases back and nuzzles into Cas’s neck. 

“To answer your question earnestly, yes. Sex has always been great between us.”

“Is it always that intense, or do you get more accustomed to it?”

“Not always. There are times when we like sweet, lazy sex, but just as often, we like rough, dirty fucking.” Dean lets his voice fill with heat as he lights Cas up again with open-mouthed kisses down his neck. He arches into the touch and lets his head drop to the side to give Dean more room. 

“Can you show me sweet and lazy now?”

Dean smiles against his skin. “It would be my pleasure.”

  
  


They spend all evening exploring each other, Dean showing Cas everything that he used to know. Not quite everything. He’s intentionally staying away from penetration until Cas is more comfortable and secure with what they are doing. He’s secretly glad that Dean put that on hold because he can’t imagine anything more intense than what he’s already experienced.

Cas keeps waiting for the shooting pain to sear through his skull. Every time Dean tells him a story from their past, he is listening, but also bracing himself for the inevitable pain that comes with new discoveries. It doesn’t happen, though. It seems that memories of Dean, while gone, don’t cause the excruciating pain like other memories do. 

  
  
  


  
  
  


At first light, they pack up and find what amounts to a cross between a general store and an open air farmer’s market. It’s an interesting mix, and Roy, the owner, is thrilled to welcome them in. They gather up all the materials that Dean deems necessary with some helpful substitutions courtesy of Roy, and then they are off to Waterford. 

Not knowing anything about the facility makes Dean nervous, and the walls of his stony exterior come slamming back up. Cas tries to tease him, flirt with him, but he’s back to G.I. Dean. 

  
  


Cas is wearing a disguise again, a bucket hat and dull colors this time. Dean didn’t have to argue with him because Cas gets how dangerous this endeavor could be. It’s still a simple disguise, but it’s enough to keep him from being recognized at first glance. 

The farm is enormous, and full of workers, so they don’t try to approach. Instead, they set up blinds in a couple of places and alternate their stake outs. Throughout the day, Cas watches different fields, different labs, different animals, but all with the same results. Nothing seems familiar or out of place in a typical farm. While he’s making observations, Dean is out searching the area. They are able to keep in constant contact through Dean’s radio equipment, but they don’t clutter the airwaves with chatter, mostly because Dean is all business.

“It’s close to sunset, Dean.”

“Yes.”

“Can we go? This feels completely futile.”

“I thought you said that you wanted to see the bees when they come back to the hives?”

“One of the hives is completely empty, I think. I’ve seen others come and go.”

“And?”

“Nothing unusual so far.”

Silence is like a stone wall between them when Dean finally announces, “We’ll stay until nightfall and then we can go. I’m on my way back there now.”

Cas wants to mimic the cold proclamation, but just rolls his eyes instead. As the light gets golden, Cas’s interest piques. Bees shouldn’t travel in a clump like the one heading for a hive. “Wait a second. This is weird.” 

Telling Dean what he is observing turns into a running commentary of strange behaviors. “Their behavior is erratic. Bees don’t fly in a straight line, but they don’t go out of their way to avoid areas, either.”

“And that’s what they’re doing?”

“Some of them. There’s a group that is swarming over a bush like they are attacking it, and some are flying with no discernible pattern.”

This has got to be it. Cas’s head is pounding. “My brain feels like it’s about to explode inside my skull, too, so I think we’ve found what we are looking for.”

“Okay, set the binoculars down. I’m almost there.”

“I’m okay. I don’t want to miss anything important.”

He hears a gruff sigh over their connection, but continues to observe. Once the sun descends over the horizon, a few workers come out of the closest building to close up the hives. It isn’t necessary to do in a typical hive. The bees stay in their shelter in the dark. Once again, he wonders how he knows so much about the tiny creatures. Then again, he doesn’t remember learning about chemistry, and that knowledge is innately there in his brain. 

Only one little crackle marks Dean’s arrival, so quiet are his steps. Cas hands him the binoculars, but there isn’t much left to see.

“I found an abandoned cabin a way back. Let’s go set up there and we can figure out our next step.”

Keeping quiet for multiple miles is killing Cas, but he refuses to raise Dean’s ire when he’s in this mode. He will follow his rules and not complain if it might keep them safer. The cabin Dean found is most definitely abandoned, which is the good news. They don’t need to worry about anyone coming home to surprise them. The bad news is that it’s been abandoned for quite some time. They are going to have to battle the forest and the animals in it for the right to claim it as their temporary home. 

Cas leans against the ancient kitchen counter and watches as Dean shoos away several woodland creatures, including a nest of raccoons, a snake, and a cantankerous opossum.

“I think you missed your calling, Dean. You should have been a park ranger.”

“Ha ha.”

“Or Snow White.” That comment gets Dean to halt in his tracks and give him a stern look. Cas winks back. 

“I don’t see you getting off your ass and helping me out here.” Dean smirks as he turns to Cas, stalking him like he’s been stalking the animals.

“That’s because I leave the little creatures where they are. I don’t mess with them, and they don’t mess with me.” 

Stopping within his reach, Dean uses his extra bit of height to his advantage to make Cas feel him looming. He doesn’t give away his next move, so Cas squeaks when he finds himself picked up and tossed over Dean’s shoulder. He wiggles, shoves, and pulls, but it’s no use. Dean has a solid grip on him and he isn’t letting go before he’s ready.

Tossing Cas down on the mattress doesn’t produce nearly the volume of dust that it had when he poked his head to search the cabin earlier. It’s clean and whole enough that, after they cover it with their sleeping bags, they should be able to get a decent night’s sleep on it. Crawling up beside Cas, who is still sputtering and pretending to be offended by the rough treatment, Dean pulls him over on top of him. Cas straddles him without thought. 

“It’s a little rustic. We could go back to Modesto and rent a room.”

“Cas, we need to toughen you up. There was a time when you would have seen this place as a brilliant adventure.”

Skeptical, Cas questions, “When? When I was twelve?”

Dean chuckles and rolls his hips up to connect with him. He sighs at the feeling and moves his hands to Dean’s chest, sitting up and back to rock against him.

“That’s not fair,” he complains without heat. “Using my body against me.”

“I’m using my body against you, sweetheart.”

Cas grinds down, pulling a gasp from Dean’s lips before he captures them. 

Dean lets him take control, filled with an airy sense of rightness. Cas uses his entire body when he has sex, and Dean is feeling triumphant when he doesn’t sense even a little bit of timidity in his touch. His hands caress all of Dean’s planes and curves. His body slides and writhes against his, his words praise, and his mouth adores. He loves with everything in him, and Dean gives back as good as he gets.

When they are sated and panting for breath, Dean looks down the length of their bodies, lit by the one LED lantern they thought to turn on when they arrived.

“Ugh. We are filthy.”

“We were sweaty and gross before, but this is-” Cas laughs at the streaks of dust and dirt he wipes on his chest. 

Getting up off the bed, Cas wipes off the excess and his brow furrows into a scowl. “We need a shower. I think my idea of a hotel is looking better and better.”

Dean shakes his head as he gets off the bed, too. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” 

A sly smirk is the only response he gets as Dean grabs their camping towels out of a bag and slips on his shoes. “C’mon, Cas.”

“You aren’t putting clothes on?”

“Nope.” Cas has to hurry to the door to see which direction Dean is going. “But I’d put your shoes on.”

“Wait!” he calls as he rushes to comply.

Walking through the woods at night, buck naked except for their shoes, isn’t something that Cas ever thought he’d like. He’s covered in sweat, come, and grime, but the air is cool and refreshing. The sounds around them are primarily frogs croaking and crickets chirping, but there is an occasional bird that joins the chorus. It’s a white noise that Cas looks forward to sleeping to.

Dean takes his hand and laces their fingers together as they walk. “I found a pond earlier. I thought it would be nice to take a swim and get at least camping clean.”

“Do you know what’s in this pond?”

“Water, fish, plants, I’m assuming.”

Now it’s Cas’s turn for snark. “Ha ha. You’re hilarious.”

“Stop worrying so much about nature. It’s the least lethal thing we have to be concerned about.”

Cas huffs. “It would suck to find our way back to each other just to be eaten by an alligator.”

“There aren’t any alligators in Northern California.”

“Maybe not native ones, but I’ll bet my right arm people have released exotic pets back into the wild out here.”

Dean chuckles at his paranoid boyfriend. They come around the corner of the deer trail and find the pond glowing in reflected moonlight. The trail dead ends into a sandy bank, so they can just wade in after they take their shoes off. The water is chilly, and as soon as Cas gets his feet in it, his fears about alligators dissipate. The cold, crisp water feels amazing. He and Dean catch each other’s eye and have the exact same idea. Running as quickly as they can through the comical resistance of water, they race to get deep enough to submerge themselves. 

Dean leaps at Cas before they get even waist deep and they both go under. Twisting and grappling together, they pop up to the surface, laughing and giggling like children. Splashing and shouting, they continue their competition over nothing, both catapulting themselves onto each other in efforts to dunk the other.

When their breathing is labored again, for a much different reason, Cas picks Dean up off his feet with a different intention. Dean must see it in his eyes, because this time he doesn’t squirm away, but wraps his legs around Cas’s waist.

“This is a great surprise.”

Dean hums his approval and winds his arms around his neck. “You’ve always loved skinny-dipping.”

“Really?” 

“Absolutely. The first time we camped at Keystone Lake was the first time we saw each other naked.”

“When was that?”

“I was 14, I think.” 

“So, we didn’t-”

“No! There was nothing but friendship going on back then. You were always very careful to keep things completely proper until we were older.”

“So what is your favorite skinny-dipping memory?”

Dean worries his bottom lip as he thinks. A lusty grin creeps over his face. “We were on Spring Break with a bunch of friends my senior year. We saved up all year so that we could afford to go to the Bahamas. We would sneak away every night and go skinny-dipping together.”

“Why did we sneak away?”

“No one knew we were together. We kept it very quiet.”

“Why did we do that?”

“A couple of reasons. Mainly because it was different back then, especially in Kansas. Very conservative place to grow up. My dad could never know I was gay. One of us would have ended up dead. Sam knew, but only because he pestered and badgered me into telling him.”

“You said that I came out to my father?”

“Yeah, but that didn’t go well at all, like I mentioned. You lived with your shitty uncle for the few months before you moved to the KU dorms.”

“You said there were other reasons?”

“Our ages. I was sixteen when we actually started a romantic relationship. You tried waiting longer, but I practically begged you to give in. When I turned sixteen, you had just turned nineteen, so there was definitely an age gap that some people would have seen as inappropriate.”

Cas wrinkles his nose. “I can’t say that I blame them.”

“We had been each other’s everything for so long, that there was no way I was going to wait longer just because of an arbitrary age. It was pointless to me, but I waited that year after our first kiss for you, because it made you feel better about it.”

Twisting from side to side in the water, it almost feels like he’s rocking Dean in his arms. He considers making a robbing the cradle joke, but decides against it. 

“Hell, you might be the older one, but I was always way ahead with that kind of thing; understanding people and social situations. I knew we were going to date years before you did.”

“How did you know?”

“I just did. It felt right. I told you then that you’d be my husband someday.”

Cas’s features melt as he contemplates the sweetness of a young Dean so certain that he and Cas were meant to be together, even before he had an inkling of all that it would mean. Their lips meet in a chaste kiss.

“And do you still want me to be your husband someday?”

“Well, look at you fishing for a proposal,” Dean teases.

Cas is too flustered to form words, so he falls back in the water, taking them both under.

  
  
  


  
  
  


Early the next morning, they sneak onto the farm campus, following a small group of workers into the locker rooms. Stealing a couple of the coveralls that they all seem to wear, Dean tosses one to Cas and they agree to a strict 30 minute window to explore. Dean nods before they head in separate directions. They’ve agreed that that’s long enough to find some answers, but short enough that they hopefully won’t be noticed.

Dean goes into the building behind a couple of the other men, keeping his head down and glancing out of the corners of his vision. He’s looking for an office, copy room, or file room; anywhere where he might be able to find documents. What he finds is a veritable jackpot. The label on the doorway is Research, and inside is a room filled with computers and bookshelves. It only takes a moment to see that he can’t access the computers without proper credentials, so he doesn’t bother and looks for hard copies instead. On the shelves, there are textbooks galore, and one of them has a very similar picture to a sketch in Cas’s notebook. He takes a picture and goes back to the search. 

There are tons of research papers filed together, all with the DOI seal on them. He thumbs through the titles, looking for one that might be relevant, and eventually huffs his agitation. Maybe it would have been better to send Cas inside while he looked through the hives. He doesn’t understand half of what these papers are about. Dammit.

He stops, shocked to see Cas’s name in print. He pulls the bound document off the shelf to look at it closer. It’s Castiel’s doctoral thesis, which he hadn’t even started before he disappeared. Dean flips through it and doesn’t see any security features, so he tucks it inside of his coveralls. Checking the time, he continues his search, taking pictures of all of the other paper titles before turning to the file cabinet.

While Dean is inside, Cas goes to the hives. Watching the workers do their opening tasks, he soon joins them, mimicking their duties, glad to be covered by the additional netting.

As he moves from hive to hive, he finds that the erratic behavior is worse than he could have predicted from his observations the night before. In almost every hive, something is seriously wrong. Some of the hives aren’t making honey at all. They are just covering empty cells with beeswax. Some are creating odd-shaped cells in the comb instead of the perfect hexagonal shape. There are a couple hives that have eggs and larvae scattered all over the place instead of tucked neatly into the wax cells for protection. The worst of all is the one that has turned cannibalistic. It is horrifying to witness. 

At the exact moment that Cas discovers the last hive, Dean’s voice comes to him over the radio. “Where are you?”

“I just found something fascinating.”

“Cas, we agreed on this.”

“Just give me a minute.”

Dean paces back and forth in the locker room. He’s aggravated that Cas didn’t follow the plan. There is a window looking out over the gardens, and Dean peeks out. Of course, Cas is the only one left out at the hives.

“You’re calling attention to yourself, Cas,” Dean warns.

Cas ignores him and continues to study the hive. Dean is about to say something else, when a door near him opens. He turns to walk in the opposite direction as the woman coming in the door, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Adrenaline jumps through his system. He can handle himself with calm and control no matter the circumstance, but now Cas is involved. That changes everything.

Dean walks through the building, closer to the exit to the gardens. He has to dodge several employees and cameras, and by the time he makes it to the door, he’s sweating and trembling. Peeking outside, he sees Cas still in the same place. Dean wants to grab him and shake him.

“Cas, I’m getting looks all over the place here. We need to go.”

“Go ahead. I’ll meet you at the blind.”

“No fucking way. I’m not leaving you here.”

“Just give me a minute,” he snaps.

Dean bears his teeth and throws a fist through the air. He wants to punch something, but that would cause way too much disruption. Pacing with his hands on his hips, Dean is seething. Cas is being reckless and taking unnecessary risks.

Cas watches the flight of one of the cannibalistic bees. It’s aimless and without purpose. What could have possibly happened to make such an instinctively driven creature abandon all of its evolutionary knowledge?

Options race through his head and are abandoned in turn. It has to be something that they are doing to the insects themselves. Whatever it is creates different reactions in the individuals, which is one of the most confusing aspects of this … cluster fuck. He refuses to call it an experiment. This is a travesty.

“Castiel Milton, if you aren’t in the locker room in the next 60 seconds, I’m going to come out there and cause a real fucking scene.”

“Fuck,” Cas grits out through clenched teeth. Dean is being a controlling, alarmist asshole. He’s half tempted to let him come out and do his worst, but he figures that if they need more answers, they might have to come back, and he doesn’t want to burn this bridge if they can avoid it.

Storming back towards the locker room, he already has his coveralls unzipped as he walks in. Dean is standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, a black cloud swirling overhead. Cas glares and steps out of the uniform and tosses it in the bin where other used suits are discarded. He doesn’t wait for Dean to do the same, just walks through the door and keeps going.

Traversing the thousands of yards to where they had hidden the car, Cas braces his arms against the door and waits. Dean’s feet aren’t quiet this time as he approaches; he’s practically stomping. The door is yanked open and the engine starts without a sound from either of them. Cas shakes his head and gets in the passenger side.

  
  


Tension is incredibly high in the car, and Cas refuses to be the one to speak first. He watches the world fly by through the window, trying to force his mind back to the bee problem. It doesn’t work because all he can think of is Dean. Why doesn’t he trust him to make his own decisions? Why does he feel the need to ride roughshod over him at every turn? Is this a military thing? Has he always been this way? For the first time since they’ve been together, Cas is feeling concerned about their relationship.

“You hungry?” Dean asks quietly.

“Is that allowed?”

Dean huffs and rolls his eyes, which causes Cas to lash out. 

“What’s the time limit on that? What are you going to do if I take too long?”

Dean pulls the car over onto the side of the road and slams it into park. He gets out and starts walking towards the woods. “I need some air.”

Cas is incensed. Throwing open his own door, he yells to him, “Oh, sure. Run away, Dean. That’s what you do whenever I say or do something you don’t like.”

Following behind him is the only way that he’s going to get to say what’s on his mind, so that’s what he does. Before he can catch up to him, he’s shocked when Dean turns and slams Cas into the closest tree. “You don’t have the slightest idea of what I’m feeling.” 

“Of course not. If I don’t know, it’s because you keep everything from me. You show no more emotion than this tree.”

“That’s so fucking short-sighted.” Dean’s glare is vicious and full of heat.

“How so?”

“I’m fighting the whole goddamn pantheon of emotion all the damn time. If I let any of it out, I’m going to crack.”

“Then crack! Fall apart! That’s the human thing to do.”

The blue fire in Cas’s eyes is stunning. Dean had forgotten just how glorious he looks angry. A shiver races down his spine, and he licks his lips. Blinking back to desire to take solace in Cas, he shakes off the urge and steps back.

“No. You aren’t running again. Tell me what I’m doing wrong. Why are you so fucking pissed off at me?”

“You don’t listen!” Dean counters.

“I’m not your subordinate to push around. I don’t have to listen to you, asshole.” Cas emphasizes his words with a little shove of his own to get Dean out of his space.

“I’m trying to keep you safe, and you are making that job really difficult.” Dean cages him in again with just the positioning of his body. He doesn’t put his hands on Cas, but the threat of it is in every twitch of muscle.

“Because you don’t trust me. You don’t trust my judgment.”

“Not about this, no.”

His eyes pop up to his brow, and his chin drops. He’s stunned that Dean actually admitted what he’d feared. “You-”

Before he can say anything else, Dean is shaking his head and putting his hands beside his head on the tree trunk. As he leans in, eyes crazed and voice trembling, he continues, “You’re too self-sacrificing, too pure of heart, baby. They took advantage of that, I know they did. They stole you from me, made me think that you weren’t ever coming back. There’s nothing I could do before, but now I can. You just have to fucking listen when I tell you something is too dangerous.”

Cas’s heart breaks when he sees tears fill those green eyes. Dean is overwrought and scared for him. Why didn’t he recognize Dean’s reactions for what they are? Fear. 

The only thing that Cas can think to do is grab his face and pull him in for a brutal kiss. Dean makes a greedy, pained sound at the contact, which Cas takes as a green light. Sliding a hand around to the back of his head, Cas uses the other one to dip under the hem of Dean’s shirt. As soon as his fingers touch bare flesh, Dean is in motion too. 

Aggressively, they yank shirts away and shove jeans over their thighs, hardly ever breaking the consuming contact of their mouths. Once Dean shoves his hand in Cas’s boxers and gets his hand around his cock, they do separate for a gasping, necessary breath. 

“This okay?” Dean asks as he dives into Cas’s neck to nip and suck the skin there. Cas tips his head back against the tree and nods vigorously as he tries to get on top of the lack of oxygen. That problem just gets bigger when Dean adds his own weeping cock to his hand, jerking them both off together. Cas moans at the sensation of rubbing along Dean’s length, his own cock kissing the tip and smearing their precome together. 

It’s frantic and raw, Cas grappling with angling himself right to get the full length of the stroke on his dick. He can’t quite get it, so he pushes Dean back and gestures with his head. “Ground.”

Dean is glassy-eyed, panting, and lust drunk. Damn is that a good look for him. Cas feels like the breeze alone could send him over the edge, but he wants more. He wants to be as close to Dean as possible. With the change in position and location, they both pull off the remaining clothes, so they come together on the ground fully naked. Skin on skin with nothing between them. Dean’s on his back, Cas spread out on top of him, rutting as they get lost in each other’s mouths again. 

“I want you, Cas. I want you to fuck me again.”

“I don’t - I don’t know how to do that.”

Dean growls his displeasure at the reminder. “Sorry, fuck. I forgot.”

Cas wants to give him whatever he wants, but this quickie in the middle of the great outdoors is no time for new experiences like that.

“Hey, try this,” Dean invites as he nudges Cas back to open the cradle of his thighs and let him sink between them. “C’mere,” Dean grins and Cas feels his legs constrict around his waist. Leaning forward on his hands, Cas lines their cocks up and leans in to rub against Dean in a mimicry of fucking. It feels so damn good that Cas immediately does it again. 

“Fuck, yeah. That’s so good,” Dean arches his back to add some force to their strokes. His straining leaves tight tendons in his neck that Cas can’t help but nip and suck. Glancing down at the narrow space between their bodies as they rock together, he can picture his cock sinking into Dean instead of rubbing against him. The thought is enough to crank him right to the edge.

“Oh shit. Dean. I want it. I want to fuck you.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles and then moans when Cas snaps his hips just right.

“Yes, fuck. I can’t wait. I bet you feel so damn good.”

“My ass will strangle your dick, and you will come embarrassingly fast, but it’s so, so good. I promise. You’ll love it.”

Dean licks his palm and wiggles his hand between them to fists Cas’s cock again, this time with more pressure. Cas groans at the tightness and thrusts harder. Keeping up a litany of breathy curses, he races to completion.

“Yeah, Cas. So fucking hot, baby. Chase it. You’re almost there. Let me see you.”

The praise mixes with the building pleasure and it’s too much. Cas tenses and comes with a growling wail.

“So beautiful, Cas,” Dean purrs from beneath him as his groin is covered by the milky fluid. He lifts his hips to keep the motion going until Cas comes back online. Once he’s able to focus again, his flushed cheeks make the blue of his eyes shine like sapphires lit from behind. The sight of fucked out Cas has always been one of Dean’s favorite things, especially when he smirks in that satisfied way. Rutting through the warm come, Cas adjusts so that he can grip Dean in his hand and thrust against him at the same time. His pelvis slams into Dean’s ass while he jerks him off, giving him an even more realistic feel of being fucked. 

“Jesus, I know you don’t remember sex, but I swear your body does. You haven’t missed a beat, Cas.”

“Flatterer.”

Dean stretches his arms over his head, reveling in the gorgeous sensations of being pounded roughly. It’s missing the key ingredient, but it’s still amazing.

“I’m close,” he whispers, causing Cas to move into overdrive. 

“Yes, oh fuck.” Dean moans. His belly is tight, his balls are pulled up, and he’s teetering on the knife edge of release. Looking into Cas’s face pushes him over. 

They slip and slide together for another few strokes, taking advantage of the warm pool of come making the way smooth. They trade lazy kisses until Cas’s arms start to tremble, and then he lays on his side as close to Dean as he can get. 

In the quiet stillness, gazing into each other’s souls, Dean confesses, “I can’t lose you again, Cas. I won’t. The only way that they will get to you again is if they pry you out of my dead hands.”

“You won’t lose me. I promise. I’m not being careless, but I need to figure out what happened.”

“Let’s just leave. We can leave our identities behind and never look back.”

“You wouldn’t leave Sam,” Cas teases.

“If that meant that I could keep you safe, I would.”

“You really are scared.”

“Scared? Try terrified.”

Running his fingertips over Dean’s lips, he makes a confession of his own. “I think I love you.”

“Jesus, Cas. You still give me whiplash.” Dean can’t help but laugh. “Don’t you think that’s awfully fast, though? We haven’t been together that long.”

Cas shrugs the best he can while laying on his side. “I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you this whole time. I don’t think my emotions are controlled by whatever took my memories.”

Dean leans up on an elbow and pushes the sweat-soaked hair away from his forehead. “That makes sense, right? Memories and emotion are stored or whatever in different parts of the brain.”

“Sure. I guess that makes sense. About as much as any of this.”

They settle into soft touches and chaste kisses for another minute until Cas can’t stand it any more. “So, do you love me?”

Dean immediately scoffs, “That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.”

Cas huffs and sits up, his arms wrapping around his knees. Quietly, he asks, “I know you love him, but do you love me?”

“You’re the same person, baby.”

“We’re not, not entirely. I don’t know the things he knows. I don’t share your history like he does. What I’m asking is, can you be happy with the broken version of Cas?” With every word, he seems to shrink in on himself.

Dean can’t stand seeing him so vulnerable and unsure. Crawling over into his space, he wraps himself around Cas and holds him like the cherished treasure that he is. “You’re not broken. There is nothing wrong with you. You are exactly the man I fell in love with.”

“Those who don’t know their history, though…”

“Are doomed to repeat it?” Dean kisses his temple. “Is that such a bad thing? Think of all the new experiences you are having. You’re getting to relive parts of your life. I think that’s really cool.”

“Liar,” Cas leans his weight against Dean and takes comfort in his warmth.

“No, really. Everyone would love to relive the excitement of meeting their significant other for the first time, or their first kiss. You’re actually getting to do that.”

Cas hums his agreement, and then leans away. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a glass half full kind of person.”

Dean snorts in laughter and then stands. Reaching down to help Cas up, he admits, “I’m not, like, at all. But, I was just thinking about you wanting to fuck me. It made me think that I would love to be able to experience that first again. That would be amazing.”

Walking back to the car, clothes in hand and leaning on each other, Cas asks, “Wouldn’t you rather be experienced so that it’s good?”

“You’re not experienced, and if you were any better you’d kill me.”

Cas chuckles and waits while Dean grabs a bottle of water and some napkins from the car to clean them off. Dean’s eyes roam openly and appreciatively over Cas’s abdomen while he cleans away the crusty come and dirt. 

“That will have to do for now. When we get back to the cabin, I think we should take a dip in the pond.”

“Yes, please. Then we should go through what we learned at the farm.”

“Smart. Then maybe we can talk about taking that next step?”

Cas and Dean try to kiss, but neither of them can stop smiling.

  
  
  



	7. Picking Up the Pieces

Cas runs the towel over his hair to soak up the excess from their afternoon dip while Dean brings in a stack of paper that they had left in the car. Eager to share their found treasure, they sit at the rustic table and huddle together. 

“Okay, let’s see what you got. Was there anything important?”

“Yeah, I found a research room.” Dean grins to see Cas looks up sharply. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I think this is probably the most fascinating part.” Pulling Cas’s thesis out from the stack and handing it to him, he watches for any sign of distress. Instead, Cas is instantly engaged. 

“What the fuck? I finished my thesis?”

“Apparently.”

“That’s…kind of anticlimactic. I was looking forward to stressing my way through that.”

Dean kisses him on the temple and gets up. They need to eat, but there’s no way that Cas is going to do anything but read through his thesis now that it is in his hands. He knows better than to try to pry him away, so he rummages around in their supplies and puts together a meal out of what’s left. 

It’s mostly beef jerky and nuts, but it’s enough to hold them over. He’s hoping that they will be able to chase another clue from the information they gathered, and wherever they go next, it will have to have a restaurant.

When he brings the meager meal back to the table, Cas is about halfway through reading his paper. One hand is rubbing at his head while the other turns pages. 

Putting a hand on his neck gently, he asks, “Hey, do you need to take a break?”

“Not yet. I want to finish it.”

“Why don’t you eat while you read?”

“I’m not hungry.” 

Dean sighs and Cas looks up at him with a strained smile. “Dean, I know I’m making my head hurt. I know taking a break would make it stop. I know I need to eat, but I just want to finish this first. Okay?”

Trying to give Cas more space and show that he does indeed trust him in most things, Dean gives him a tight smile and sits down to snack. He grabs the sketch book and his phone to compare the picture he took of the textbook. The picture on the front cover is of a mammal that Dean doesn’t recognize. As he flips through Cas’s drawings, he takes a moment to admire his skill. Cas is very technical and realistic with his drawings and always has been. Finally, he finds the one he’s looking for. It’s identical, down to the size, background, and pose. “Cas? What is this animal?”

He turns the phone to face him and Cas glances away from his no doubt riveting words. “It’s a fisher cat. Why?”

“I remembered the drawing from your sketchbook. Look. They’re practically the same picture.”

Cas sets his thesis down without hesitation. Looking back and forth between the two, he sees a few subtle differences. Taking the sketchbook into the better light outside, he catches a sketch hidden within it done in a different color. “Hey, are your sunglasses polarized?”

“Yes?”

“Can I have them, please?”

After a little shuffling inside, Dean hands them over to Cas. When he puts them on, he’s better able to isolate the colors of the hidden sketch. He still has to twist and turn the page in multiple directions and angles to see the lines. It suddenly becomes clear, but the reasoning certainly isn’t. “Why in the hell would I hide a picture of Yosemite Sam in this animal’s belly?”

“Dude, you got me.” Dean pats him on the shoulder and goes back inside, laughing at the cryptic nature of Cas’s clues. 

After getting nowhere with that clue after a few minutes, they dig into what else they found. Cas needs a break from reading, so he flips through the titles of papers that Dean had taken pictures of. 

“These are all fascinating ideas, but I don’t -”

“You don’t what?” Dean looks up and sees Cas narrowing his eyes at one of the pictures. “I remember seeing this.”

“What?”

“WPPP,” he replies as he pulls the sketchbook over. 

“Is that a radio station?”

Cas quirks a smile while he flips the pages. “Funny, that’s what I thought when I saw it. Look at the title of this paper, though.” 

Dean takes the phone and reads, “Weaponized Pollinator Pheromone Project. Does that mean something to you?”

“It made me immediately nauseous, so part of me obviously recognizes it.”

“Cas, I don’t want you to get sick. Maybe we’ve done enough for today.”

He shakes his head and denies his ailment. “I’m fine. I want to figure this out. The sooner the better.”

Dean wipes a hand over his eyes and tries to fight the urge to argue with him. Cas knows his limits. He’ll tell him if he needs a break.

“There!” Cas slaps his hand down on the page in his excitement. “I knew I’d seen it in here.”

In the image of a colorful fish, some of the belly scales are shaped strangely. Upon closer inspection, they form the letters WPPP. As Dean is studying the image, Cas stands up and expels some of his energy by pacing. Dean grins to himself. Cas has always done this when he’s trying to solve a problem. Something about moving his body helps him organize his thinking.

“Okay, the fisher, Yosemite Sam, WPPP, and a rainbow trout. How in the hell are we supposed to figure out our next step from those clues?”

“Well, you’re assuming that the two drawings are associated.”

“Yes, they are.”

“How do you know that?” Dean turns to watch Cas.

“The trout is a fisher cat’s main food source.”

“So, you drew them as a pair? They aren’t near each other in the book.”

“I’m sure that’s by design.”

“Is that the only thing tying them together?”

Cas sighs and pinches his temple between his thumb and middle finger, compressing to alleviate some pain. “The color I used for the hidden messages. It’s the same in both pictures.”

Turning back to the book, Dean studies the trout picture. He notices something at the beginning of the initials. Flipping the book 180 degrees, he sees a little image of a key and arrow. Spun around upside down, the picture gives up another secret. 

“Cas, come look at this. I found other pictures.”

Dean points them out, the last one a stylized cross in a circle. “What is that?”

“It looks familiar, but I don’t know where I’ve seen it.” Cas paces away and speaks his thoughts out loud, trying to find the right bit of information. “The cross looks like the one on the New Mexico flag, but it doesn’t have a circle around it. We’re not anywhere near there, either, and so far all the clues have kept us in the state.”

When he passes by the table again, he does a double take. “Holy shit. That’s it.”

“What? What’s it?” Dean jumps to his feet to see the picture from the same angle. In the curves of the fish, there are two distinct letters, S in the body and F in the dorsal fin. “Oh, shit. Yeah, of course. Santa Fe, the train company.”

They grin at each other, pride radiating from both of them as they congratulate themselves on their stellar intellects. Until Cas’s face falls suddenly. “Fuck. We still don’t know what this means.”

“Let’s figure it out.” Dean says and grabs his iPad. Cas resumes his pacing while Dean searches keywords. He tries multiple combinations of them, and they all lead back to Yosemite National Park, but a couple of them still don’t quite fit.

“Cas, what is the title of that textbook you got the fisher picture from?”

Picking up the camera, Cas flips to the right picture. “Um, it’s Wildlife Conservation Techniques and Practical Applications in the Pacific Northwest.”

Dean lifts his brow at the wordy title, but adds words to his searches. After a few more iterations, Dean stops and lifts his hands from the screen.

“I think I might have found something.” That statement brings Cas in like a lure. The article is about the endangered status of the fisher cat, and a unique program in Yosemite that is drastically reducing the number of animals killed by vehicle strikes. The program observed that wildlife will use drainage culverts as access points to cross under the roads when available. They increased the number of these culverts throughout the park, especially in heavily travelled areas.

“This must be it. It fits the type of clues so far, right?”

“Yeah, but what are we looking for? Is this part of your research, or is it a clue that we’re supposed to find?”

Cas scowls, looking helpless. “I don’t know.”

Dean shrugs and starts packing up. “It’s worth a look. I don’t like the idea of staying in one place too long anyway, especially since we invaded the mother ship earlier. The farm is a little too close for comfort.”

In the car, Cas keeps searching, but he types and scrolls with his right hand, letting his left hand hang over Dean’s thigh in a comforting and slightly proprietary touch. He couldn’t possibly know it is something that he used to do whenever they were in the car driving somewhere. Dean feels buoyed by it, by all the similarities he is finding to pre-kidnapping Cas. He’s stopped calling attention to each little quirk and mannerism that they share because all it would do is call attention to the fact that he is different than he used to be.

“We need to find a place to stay while we’re out there. Think you could find something comfortable but away from crowds?”

“Sure,” Cas says and opens a new tab. Dean pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and hands it to Cas. “Use either of the credit cards in there. They’re both good.”

Cas picks one and scrutinizes it. “Joe Walsh? You really get away with that?”

Dean snickers. “Yeah, people laugh about it and I tell them the story of my Irish ginger friend named Eddie Murphy who had it much worse.”

Cas huffs a laugh, and continues the search. 

As they get closer to Yosemite, the landscape changes. The sparse trees become fuller, taller, and evergreen. Rolling hills ascend while the valleys get deeper. Temperatures drop as they enter the park, just as the sun begins its descent behind them. 

“Dean!”

Cas’s shriek snaps him back to the present harshly, making his grip wobble on the steering wheel. “Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m right here, sunshine. No need to yell.”

“I’m pretty sure I found the link to Santa Fe.”

“Really? What is it?”

“In the park, one of the places you can stay is a refurbished Santa Fe caboose.”

“That’s so fucking cool. Is it available?”

“Let me check.”

“If there are culverts nearby the caboose, maybe you hid something there?”

“That’s what I was thinking. We don’t have to stay there to scout the area, but it would sure make it a hell of a lot easier.”

“Definitely.”

“Oh, that’s great. It’s available, but just for tonight.”

“Book it.”

  
  


Cas helps him navigate to the property, and it’s just as cool as they thought it would be. When they park, they take a minute to soak it in. “Cas, this is fulfilling some of my favorite childhood dreams. Living on a train? Young Dean would be so impressed.”

“Sounds like grown up Dean is still pretty awestruck. I hope it rains tonight. Can you imagine how amazing it will sound on that metal roof?”

They go to the door and enter the code on the lock box to access their keys. Inside is fresh and clean, fully renovated into a cozy loft. The living area is nice, but climbing up a ladder to get to the bedroom leaves both of them giddy. 

“Jesus, I feel like such a kid,” Cas laughs as he peeks over the top. “Was I always so into trains?”

Dean chuckles from his place by the window overlooking the mountains. “No, not at all. I think it’s just this place. It’s awesome.”

Back downstairs, they open up the topographical map that Cas purchased at the ranger station. They use Dean’s GPS to locate their exact position and then look for roadways near them that might potentially have the added culverts. They mark up the map, but once that’s done, they can’t do anything else until morning. It’s almost fully dark, and there’s no sense hunting for a clue without being able to see it.

Cas relaxes onto the couch and finishes reading his thesis while Dean cooks up their dinner from supplies they bought on the way. It’s just a couple of steaks and potatoes, but after what they’ve been existing on so far this week, he thinks it deserves at least a Michelin star. 

They moan and groan through the entire meal, Cas praising his culinary genius in between bites. “Just wait until breakfast, Cas. I’m making your favorite.”

The head tilt. God almighty, that fucking cute head tilt. Dean has such a thing for that confused puppy look that if Cas ever found out about it, he’d never get his way again.

“Blueberry pancakes with lemon and honey,” Dean prompts. 

Cas’s big blues widen with desire. “That sounds delicious.”

“You don’t remember them?”

Cas shakes his head, and Dean is tempted to correct that travesty right now, despite both being stuffed full. 

“We’d better make sure that we both have a big appetite in the morning, then.” Dean lets some of his lewd thoughts leak into his tone. Cas flicks his eyes up and gives him a wink. 

“That can definitely be arranged, but I can’t even think about being physical right now. I’m too full.”

“Let’s see if we can piece together any more clues while we wait.”

Cas picks up his thesis and curls up to read it. Dean joins him after he finishes cleaning the dishes, flipping through Cas’s sketchbook. He’s looked through it a dozen times or more, but they still keep finding new things. He wants to find everything else while Cas finishes reading. Although, after a few minutes, he recognizes the signs of Cas coming down with a massive headache. He’s been pushing hard, confronting so many pieces of his life that have been taken from him. He must be in agony, and yet he bears it so gracefully. He’s determined to get to the end of this puzzle, despite what it costs him. 

He’s hoping that Cas will tell him when he’s had enough instead of choosing to be a martyr. It’s not likely, but Dean turns back to his task, giving him the benefit of the doubt. As he turns pages, he sees light filtering through one of them. Odd. Holding it up directly in the light, the page has multiple pin holes in it that don’t look to be random. They’re too precisely placed. 

While he’s trying to figure out the pattern, he’s surprised by the book being snatched out of his hands and his lap being filled with a muscular body. Cas hides his face in his neck without saying a word, and Dean doesn’t break the silence. He brings a hand up to rub his neck while they sit soaking up the comfort of each other’s presence. 

Cas falls asleep for a while, tucked into the warmth and protection of his body. Dean certainly checks out for a few as well. Breathing together, chest to chest, has always been a sure fire way to send Dean off to sleep. It’s incredibly soothing to be so close and in sync with Cas.

When he shifts to re-distribute Cas’s weight, he must jostle him too hard, because Cas sits up, wide-eyed.

“Good morning.”

Cas scowls and looks out the window at the perfectly black night. “Still night.”

“Yes, grumpy. You haven’t been out that long.”

Cas mumbles something while he both yawns and stretches, showing off that little strip of skin right above his waist. Dean’s pretty sure he’s asking for the time, so Dean checks his watch while he rubs a thumb over that tempting real estate. “It’s only nine.”

Humming at the lovely sensation, Cas grins, looking down at Dean. “Let’s go take a shower and go to bed.”

The way he emphasizes the word ‘bed’ by popping the b tells Dean that Cas isn’t feeling tired anymore. That’s all the encouragement Dean needs. 

“Hop up and I’ll meet you in there.”

Cas plants a smacking kiss on his lips before getting up to turn on the water. Dean throws their combined bag upstairs and meets Cas in the tiny bathroom. They’ve managed to fit an entire home into a caboose car, so he can’t expect a luxury bathroom, but still. There is no way that both of them will fit in the shower together. “Looks like we’re taking turns.”

Cas is leaning against the sink, bottom lip caught in his teeth. “What’s up, Cas?”

“We talked about sex earlier.”

“Yes,” Dean agrees, but not wanting to lead him in either direction. Cas needs to come to this on his own.

“I know you want me to fuck you, but…”

“Cas, it’s okay if you aren’t ready for that.”

“No, I am ready. I just want it to be the other way around first.”

Dean is more than a little surprised by the revelation. “Okay. Can I ask why?”

The blush on his cheeks is adorable, and Dean leans in closer to run his nose against the heated skin. Cas always does better talking about difficult things when Dean is close. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I need to experience it so I can make it good for you when we switch places.” 

“You’ve done just fine with everything else,” Dean points out.

“Please? I would just feel a whole lot more confident if you fucked me first.”

Grinning, Dean admits, “Sweetheart, you don’t ever have to beg me. The only reason you had to ask twice was I wanted to be sure you know what you’re asking.

“Okay. So, what do I need to do?” Cas turns a remarkable shade of magenta as he gestures behind him.

“To prep?”

Cas clears his throat and nods abruptly. Dean steps back, getting ready to leave Cas to it. “Just get clean. I’ll take care of the rest.”

At the horrified look on Cas’s face, Dean stops. “We’re going to have anal sex, Cas. It feels fucking amazing, but there are hurdles you’re going to have to get over first.”

He swallows hard and asks, “Like what?”

“I’m going to be fingering your ass. My hands are going to be holding you open and sliding in and out of you. I’m going to be stretching you, getting that tiny hole ready to take a cock. If you’re squeamish about it, you’re going to be tense. If you’re tense, you aren’t going to relax and let me in.”

“How bad does it hurt?”

“Not at all. I won’t let you hurt. I know what I’m doing and I know your body better than you do.”

The look he gets back is full of suspicion. “Okay, it’s a little weird at first. As soon as you relax into it, though, it’s the best thing you’ll ever feel.”

Cas takes a deep, cleansing breath and nods. Dean shuts the door behind him and Cas is on his own. He quickly washes his hair and goes through his normal routine, anxious and jittery about what they’re going to do. Is he ready for this?

Technically, he knew that anal sex was what he asked Dean for, but he hadn’t given the how, what, and where a thought. Well, he’s thinking about it now. While he loves the thought of Dean being inside of him, taking and giving each other this supposedly immense pleasure, he can’t reconcile the idea of someone else having their fingers up his ass. How is that the least bit sexy?

Soaping up his face cloth and fingers, he shrugs and decides that it has to be done if he’s ever going to find out. Rubbing the tender skin thoroughly, he feels a little less gross. At least he’s clean on the outside. Now for the hard part. Which turns out not to be. 

He tries just the tip of one finger, slipping through the tight resistance with the aid of the slippery soap. There’s a tiny little burn, but it dissipates almost immediately. Retreating, he lathers up his fingers more and slips the tip in again. It goes easier this time, and it feels okay. The more he rocks his middle finger in and out, the better and better it feels. He wants to bear down on the finger, force it deeper, and he isn’t sure where that instinct comes from.

Dean had said that he needs to be stretched. Wondering what that entails, he tries to push and pull against the walls of his rim with that one fingertip. After a minute, he realizes how tense he is, and consciously relaxes. He forces his shoulders down and closes his eyes. Resuming the little in and out thrusts, he feels his muscles soften around him. 

There’s an anxiety creeping up on him, a need to be done with this part already so that Dean can take over. He’s rushing towards something that he doesn’t quite understand. 

Thinking about the diameter of his finger, he mentally compares it to Dean’s cock. Fuck. That’s a big difference. Hanging his head forward, he tries to push another finger in with the first. It doesn’t want to go, and he huffs in frustration. He wants something bigger. He wants to feel that stretch.

A knock on the door makes him freeze, turning so Dean won’t be able to see the finger in his ass if he opens the door. “Hey, sweetheart? From the sound of it, you’re already taking on part of my job.”

They could land planes by the glow of Cas’s face. He is utterly mortified. Was he making sounds? That Dean could hear? Where is a good sink hole when you need one?

“I’m just about finished. I’ll be out in a second.”

Dean chuckles. “Leave some of the good stuff for me, okay? I’ve missed that bouncy little ass of yours.”

Cas might never leave this room again.

  
  
  


Dean is waiting in the hallway, fidgety and ready to get his hands on Cas. Knowing what’s going on on the other side of the door is bringing out his inner caveman. He wants to be the only one to give Cas pleasure. He wants him begging and crying for release, lust drunk on everything that Dean makes him feel.

When the water turns off, Dean has to fist his hands to keep them by his sides. The door opens timidly and Cas can’t bring himself to look at Dean. 

Oh, that is precious. Dean wishes that he could share a memory or two of their previous sex life with him. Cas is not body shy; he’s bold and brazen in his wants. He has no problem pushing his ass into Dean’s face, demanding a good tongue fucking when he’s in the mood. He rides Dean like a fucking rodeo cowboy, and once Dean goes off, he’ll face fuck him and come all over his lips. This shyness is adorable, but he looks forward to Cas feeling like himself again. 

“Cas, look at me.” Embarrassment meets his gaze and Dean can’t let that stand. Crowding into his space, Dean nuzzles his ear. “I’m going to take the world’s quickest shower because I’m too turned on to be away from you any longer than I have to be.” 

Cas sucks in a surprised gasp, and Dean continues. “Knowing that you were in there exploring your body without me…fuck. I wanted to break down the door so I could get my hands on you. I’ll be back in just a second, baby. I want you on that bed, ready to let me take over as soon as I’m done.”

Dean doesn’t turn around, doesn’t check in with him. He just gets through the shower in record time. He doesn’t bother even wrapping the towel around his hips. It won’t be there long enough to make the effort. Cas is exactly where he asked him to be, looking doe-eyed and insecure. Dean leans against the wall, his hand going to his heart. “You take my breath away.” 

Cas licks his lips and fights the grin. “You’re a total sap, you know.”

“Of course I do, and it’s your fault,” he teases as he crosses to the bed.

“How is that my fault?” 

Dean knee walks on the bed and leans down for a kiss. “I’m in love with you, Cas. You are my everything.”

“I didn’t flinch that time.”

Dean grins and kisses down his chest. Cas’s breath hitches when he gets down to his groin. “Why are you so nervous, baby?”

“This is totally new to me.”

Dean studies his expression carefully. “So were blow jobs, and you were incredibly enthusiastic about that learning curve.”

“I don’t know, Dean. It just feels different.”

Watching Cas shift and fidget uncomfortably, he makes an executive decision. The longer they talk about it, the longer it takes to get to the stuff Cas is freaked out about, the more amped up he’s going to get. It’s best to just get started.

  
  


“Okay, sweetheart. I need you to trust me.” He pushes his feet all the way up to touch his ass and opens his legs wide. Cas nods when Dean looks back up at him after lubing up his fingers.

Dean wishes that he could flip him over and use his mouth to open Cas up, but it would not be conducive to a good first experience for him. That would be too much way too fast.

At the first touch of his finger, Cas flinches, and Dean glances up. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Cas. Just relax.”

“I would if you weren’t about to put your fingers in my ass.”

Dean chuckles as he runs his middle finger along the cleft of Cas’s cheeks from his perineum and down. Cas sucks in a breath, but Dean can see him try to relax. For some reason, Cas has adopted the typical heterosexual association of ass play with something painful or shameful. Once he experiences how good this feels, he’s sure that Cas will lose that inhibition, but it can’t hurt the odds to show Cas how much Dean is enjoying it, too. Spreading his cheeks wide, Dean sighs. “Still so pink and perfect, Cas.” 

His finger runs around the rim, encouraging the muscle to soften. “Have you done any research about this like you did with blow jobs?”

“No.” Cas’s breathing is a little jerky, but Dean doesn’t give him time to dwell. He pushes the tip of his finger in, feeling less resistance than he should. Dean licks his lips at the thought of Cas fingering himself in the shower. 

“The muscle needs to soften to allow you to have penetrative sex. I’m convincing your body that it wants to let me in by massaging the muscles and making you feel good.”

The tip of his finger slips deeper as he rubs the lube around the inside edge. Back and forth, he rocks the finger into Cas’s tightness. Dean runs his free hand over his knee and down to the soft spot where his hip joint meets his groin. Cas sighs into the touch, which Dean uses to take focus away from filling his hole with the entire finger, up to the webbing. 

Feeling Cas push down instinctively makes Dean happy. He’s right to hurry the process along, without skimping on the necessary preparation. “A lot of people think this part is tedious and just something to get through, but I love this part almost as much as the actual sex.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’m taking care of you, making you feel good. Why wouldn’t I like this?”

Cas covers his eyes with one of his arms. It concerns Dean a little bit that he feels that he needs to hide, but he’ll let him take baby steps. Dean adds more lube and stretches Cas in all directions, warming up the muscle slowly. This time when he slides back in, Cas moans. 

Carefully, slowly, Dean stokes the fire in Cas. His touch continually throws fuel on the lust burning in his body. When Dean is done getting him ready, Cas is dewy with sweat, babbling nonsense, and pleading with him. His hands are white-knuckled in the sheets, his head thrashing back and forth. 

“Dean, please. I need you.”

“Oh, yeah. That is music to my ears, baby.” Dean pulls out of his body, leaning over him to steal a kiss. He doesn’t expect Cas to latch onto his body like an octopus, but he isn’t surprised, either. Whenever Cas bottoms, which isn’t as often as Dean does, he needs to feel fully connected to him. Dean is by far the more emotional lover, even if he would never admit it, but Cas can’t take his cock without feeling cared for and loved. It’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

Still entangled with all of Cas’s limbs, Dean manages to get the head of his cock pressed against his now sloppy little hole. Kissing him senseless, Cas has a tight grip in his hair. “Ready?” he asks against Cas’s lips. A keening, desperate sound bubbles up from him, and Dean captures his swollen lips as he presses firmly inside of the love of his life for the first time in five years. 

Cas gasps and freezes, his entire body poised at the brink, not knowing how to categorize this intrusion. There’s no pain, Dean was right about that, but there’s a foreign, unnatural pressure that’s taking his breath. 

“Fuck, yeah,” Dean moans, dropping his head between his shoulders. “I missed this so fucking much, Cas.” 

Cas is trembling, hyper-focused on each tiny movement of Dean’s cock. He’s had that cock in his hand, in his mouth, sliding against his own; it’s never felt anywhere near this large. His legs are wrapped around Dean’s waist, tense and shaky. Dean lifts his head to show his lust-blown pupils. Going down on his forearms, Dean’s chest brushes against Cas’s, heated skin lifting goosebumps on each other. Dean’s perfect plush lips suck on the skin over Cas’s heart, his tongue gliding over his nipples. There aren’t many things that could give him a backbone of jello like these gorgeous touches.

“I’ve wanted you every single day, Cas. I was in Italy for four years, desperate to touch you even one more time. I prayed for a miracle that I knew would never come. And now, we’re together again. This is more than I ever considered possible, and I will never take it for granted. I will never forget how horrible life was without you.” Dean presses the words into his skin as he pledges his devotion. 

“I love you, Dean,” Cas replies, his body loosening up marginally. Dean is in no hurry. He will stay in this position, almost, but not quite, sheathed inside of Cas’s body all night if that’s what he needs. His dick has other ideas, of course. His libido is using every memory of the heaven inside of Cas to tempt him into moving. His jaw clenches around the desire, keeping it locked in his control. He won’t move before he’s asked. 

“I don’t know if I can handle this, Dean.” Cas admits sadly. “It’s overwhelming.”

Dean smiles and kisses him gently. “Then we won’t do it.”

“I can’t ask-”

“Yes, you can. It’s okay.” Dean pulls back immediately, leaving the blinding pleasure to take care of his beloved. Before he’s even halfway out of Cas’s body, he’s gripped tighter than before. A deep, growling moan sounds in his ear. 

“Stop. I was wrong. Go in again,” Cas commands on a shaky breath.

Dean complies, sliding smooth and silky until he bottoms out. “Christ, Cas,” Dean curses as his eyes roll back in his head. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Move more.”

Dean can’t help but grin widely. He loves his bossy boyfriend so much. “Yes, sir.”

That Cas doesn’t pop off to that sass, just leaves his mouth gaping on a silent sound, is testament to how much he’s overcome by the sensation of being filled. Slowly, Dean builds a rhythm that they both tremble and pant to. 

“So fucking good, Dean.”

“We’re just getting started, my love.”

  
  


In the morning, Cas takes an extra long shower, letting the hot water soothe his muscles. Dean had warned him that he’d be tender and achy for a couple of days, so he’d convinced him to take some ibuprofen when they woke up. Sex with Dean was incredible and confusing. There are parts of his body that he’s never known about, never explored before. Well, according to Dean, he’s explored them quite thoroughly and vigorously, but his memories, and therefore knowledge, are missing.

The static of running water creates the perfect white noise to examine the experience. He never would have believed how much he loves being fucked. There isn’t another experience that compares to it. That alone is quite the realization. When Dean had shifted the angle to show him what prostate stimulation feels like, he thought he’d been launched into another galaxy full of starbursts and insane levels of pleasure.

Dean didn’t focus on that magical spot for long. He’d just wanted to give Cas a taste. Even when Cas begged for more, Dean told him that it was too much all at once. Considering he’d never felt even a finger in his ass before last night, and Dean has close to a decade of experience, he didn’t push too hard. 

Every time he thinks about how it felt to have Dean inside his body, he shivers. The push and pull, the slippery slide of his cock opening him up. It was…beyond description. He felt so close to Dean, so connected. He’d had to fight back tears when Dean finally gave in to his orgasm. It was so much more than a physical release, and he didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“Cas, your breakfast is getting cold, sweetheart.”

Cas smiles and just hearing Dean’s voice call to him from outside the bathroom makes him eager to get back in the circle of his arms. Dean carries himself with such strength and certainty that Cas can’t help but feel safe with him. He’s also grown addicted to his natural scent. It’s masculine and clean, with a hint of fir tree and cedar mixed with a sweet spice. Nutmeg, maybe.

After they finish their homemade blueberry pancakes, they start off on a hike to find whatever Cas left for them to find. They go in a circle perimeter around the caboose, slowly spiraling outward once they cross off all of the culverts they’ve already examined.

“Wait a second,” Cas stops in the middle of a trail and squints while he thinks. “That article mentioned that the animals didn’t use the normal drainage culverts during heavy rains or during the spring melt.”

“Right, so they wouldn’t be washed out.”

“Exactly,” Cas turns and gestures for the map. “I also wouldn’t have put anything in those places, right? So it wouldn’t be lost.”

When they study the area, they are able to cross off the majority of the culverts they marked. Dean grins and kisses him. “That little nugget of wisdom is going to save hours of tramping around out here in the woods.”

“Not that I’m opposed to being out here. It’s beautiful.” Cas takes a deep breath and sighs his appreciation.

“A damn sight better than the city, that’s for sure.”

They pinpoint the next closest likely location and start towards it. Walking hand in hand, Cas asks, “You’d prefer to live out in the wild, wouldn’t you?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Someday. Yeah, I would.”

“Am I what’s stopping you?”

Dean flashes a tight smile at him. “No, just delaying. You were on board with living away from the city once you had finished your doctorate and made a name for yourself.”

“Well, that’s half accomplished apparently.”

“I can’t believe you have your doctorate and don’t even remember the pain of defending your thesis. You were so stressed about the thought of it that you had nightmares.”

“Really? I don’t mind speaking in public.”

“You weren’t worried about that. You were concerned that your temper could be problematic.”

Cas laughs, tossing his head back. “That definitely sounds like me. If someone criticized something I had worked so hard on, I doubt I would have been kind about it.”

Dean’s adoring gaze is back on him, and this time he reflects the look straight back. They come to a stop, neither of them wanting to break the connection. “You look at me like I’m the most precious treasure in the world.”

“That’s because you are, Cas. To me, you’re-”

“Everything.” Cas finishes the thought that he’s heard so many times. 

Standing toe to toe, Dean breathes, “Yeah. You’ve got it.”

There are stars in their eyes, the entire universe holding its breath while they cocoon themselves in each other. Lips meet in a sacred promise to remain as fully enmeshed together forever.

When they part, Cas confesses, “I feel like I don’t deserve that. I’m just me.”

“So am I. There’s nothing special about me. I’m a former spy who tracks down cheating spouses for a living.”

“You’re fantastic at your job. Don’t diminish your skills.” Dean chuckles and apologizes. They continue walking. 

“Besides, everything I am is learned from a book.”

“You’re so much more than that.”

Cas tilts his eyes up out of the corner of his eye and asks, “Can we just agree that we both think the other is special?”

Dean nods with a quiet smile. They walk some distance when he begins a story. “When we first started officially dating, we used to compare what we thought about, talked about, and felt to other people. You once brought me a data sheet filled with evidence from popular movies and books.”

Amused, Cas asks, “Evidence of what?”

“That we had something different than everyone else.” Dean’s eyes practically glow with fondness. “You told me that empirically, you loved me more than any sane person would.”

They both grin at the thought of the young Cas trying to find the right equation to explain their relationship. “Then I convinced you that it didn’t matter if it was sane or not. It was right. That we were destined in the stars.”

“And I believed that?” Cas teases. 

“You more than believed it. You told me the story of Perseus and Andromeda, the lovers that are together forever in the night sky. You said that one day we would be up in the heavens, and other people will tell our story.”

“I was a huge sap when I was a kid.” Cas flushes and looks away with a hidden smile.

Dean nudges his shoulder. “You still are.”

  
  


After watching him flush, Dean asks, “Do you remember the inscription in The Illustrated Man?”

“No, not really. I only saw it a couple of times.”

“It says, ‘I love you more than is sane. I’ll love you until the end of time.’”

Cas’s eyes go wide. “I’ve heard that before.”

“I say it to you all the time.”

Cas scowls. “I haven’t heard you.”

Dean lifts his brow and continues walking. 

“When? When do you say it?” All he receives is a chuckle in response.

  
  


“Look! There it is.”

Cas follows Dean to the edge of the road, a plastic tube sticking out of the earth about a foot above the ground. There are leaves covering the top and some other debris surrounding it. He’s certain that if they didn’t know what they were looking for, they never would have found it. Clearing everything away gently, Dean clicks on his flashlight and squats down to peer into the dark space. 

“There’s a lot of junk in here, but I don’t see anything man made.” Dean hands the light to Cas to hold while he digs into the long pipe. Handfuls of damp, decaying detritus come out of the culvert and splat on the ground. Dean bears the gross stuff stoically, but Cas makes a disgusted face when the smell hits him. 

“I’m sorry I picked such a nasty hiding spot.”

“Well, we don’t even know if this is the right one yet.”

“It has to be.” Cas tries to will it into being, but he’s not a believer in manifestation. 

“That’s the last of it,” Dean warns and quickly sifts through the muck on the ground. “Sorry, Cas. Let’s move on to the next one.”

“No! It has to be here. This is the only place close enough to the caboose to make sense. Why was I taking such ridiculous precautions, anyway? I made it damn near impossible to find the answers even with my sketches. How in the hell did I think I was going to find them?”

Cas rants as he takes Dean’s position and gropes around the dirty tube. Dean doesn’t answer the rhetorical questions, just listens to him. He can’t say that he hasn’t thought the same thing a time or two. There’s hiding something and then there’s this bizarre goose chase. 

Cas’s hand slows down when he finds a weird bump on the top of the smooth interior. “Wait. I think I have it.”

“What is it?”

“Not sure. There’s something on the top. It’s stuck.” Cas’s fingers run along the edges of the bump, trying to find a weak spot. Going over it again, he finds a seam down the middle. “It’s taped. Something is taped onto the plastic.”

“Here, I can cut the tape away,” Dean says as he opens a switchblade. 

Cas brushes himself off and takes the light back. “You’re handy to have around in a crisis,” he jokes as Dean lays down on his back to better see inside the tube. 

With just a few swipes of his knife in the right places, a plastic sleeve comes loose. Dean sits up and hands it to Cas like the knight slaying the dragon for his king. “You’d do best to remember that, darling.”

Cas is too busy investigating their find to roll his eyes, and Dean gets up off the ground to help. Cas tips the plastic sleeve upside down, and a silver key falls out. The key used to have some sort of engraving on the top, but it’s been filed off completely. Someone didn’t want anyone to figure out what lock this key opens. 

With a put upon sigh, Cas says, “It’s a bit of a letdown.”

He looks up at Dean’s furrowed brow. “No note or anything?”

Shaking his head, Cas stares at the key, trying desperately to remember it. A dull throb starts above his left eye, but no epiphanies or shooting pain occur. 

“We might be finding the pieces out of order, Cas. We still have a lot to figure out.”

“True. But we have been following the clues, and this answer doesn’t actually answer anything. We don’t have a clue of what to do now.”

Kissing him on the forehead and running his hands up and down Cas’s arms, Dean suggests, “Let’s go back to the caboose and clean up. We can have some lunch, and then go over what we have again. I’m sure we’ve missed something.”

Cas flips through the pictures on Dean’s camera, sitting at the small island while he flips grilled cheese sandwiches on the stove. None of the paper titles are leading him in a particular direction. He sets the camera down and watches the organized chaos of Dean cooking. He smiles at the out of character domesticity. 

“Have you always cooked?”

Dean’s surprised by the interruption, but answers fluidly. “Since I was old enough to drag a chair over to stand on while I was at the stove.”

“Really?”

Dean nods. “I’ve been the one taking care of Sam for as long as I can remember. Dad was…broken. He was a self-absorbed drunk who didn’t want to raise two kids, even though we were there. So, I stepped up.”

“How old were you?” Cas asks with a frown. 

“I don’t know. Five or six when I started filling in the gaps of what Dad wasn’t doing.”

“Oh my god, Dean. You were a baby!”

He nods in agreement. “Did pretty good, though. Sam’s a good kid.”

“Dean, you did a good job with you, too. You raised yourself and your brother.”

Cas’s words are a little too earnest, and Dean knows that if he looks into those big blue eyes, he’s going to see sadness. The solution is simple; he refuses to look. After a minute of silence, Cas gets up from his stool abruptly and plasters himself to Dean’s back. The long, graceful fingers spread over his chest to expand their influence as much as possible. Dean closes his eyes, soaking in the comfort from him before he uses his tough guy persona to protect himself.

“Alright, alright. This isn’t some after school special. We’re fine.”

Cas kisses the back of his neck with a ridiculous smacking kiss and pops him on the ass. “You’re lucky you’re pretty to look at. Otherwise, I might take offense to that toxic masculinity bullshit.”

Dean scoffs a laugh as he pours the tomato soup into bowls. It’s a simple lunch, but there’s hardly anything that satisfies that comfort food craving like grilled cheese and soup.

“Think you can tolerate me long enough to eat the meal I just prepared for you?”

Cas bats his eyes ridiculously before he takes a bite of the sandwich Dean had put in front of him, carefully cut on the diagonal. He hums his appreciation while he chews and swallows. “This is one of those weird deja-vus. I know that I don’t remember eating grilled cheese. I haven’t had one since the ‘accident’.”

Dean tries to keep from laughing at his air quotes. It’s an adorable habit that he doesn’t want him to lose, and he will if Dean pokes fun of it. 

“But I remember the taste and I remember the smell of them cooking.”

“Whatever they did must be targeted somehow.”

“Yeah, I don’t get headaches when you tell me about our past unless it’s linked to work somehow.”

Dean eats like a lot of people from the military, focused and fast. Cas doesn’t mention it, but he wonders if it is something that he picked up during his tour, or much earlier.

He’s finished before Cas, so he cleans up and brings the sketchbook over. “Let’s go through it again. Maybe there’s a hint about what the key might unlock. Cas rests his head on his hand as he chews. He can’t imagine that his book has many surprises left. They’ve been over it and over it. After the first flip through, Dean suggests they go sit on the patio and enjoy the beautiful weather while they search. 

Watching a solitary hawk soar overhead is doing a lot for his mood. He feels vicarious freedom by watching the bird’s path through the sky. Maybe one day he and Dean will be free from other people exerting their control over them. Well, him. Dean didn’t seem to be taken into consideration when the mysterious villain took him away. That’s been a loose thread that he's come back to repeatedly. Why would they take him and not take any precautions about his boyfriend raising a fuss? That seems to be a puzzle for tomorrow’s Castiel.

“Hey, check out the bear.” Cas’s head snaps up until he looks at the picture Dean is pointing to. It’s a stylized head of a bear with a fish in its mouth. The fur is made up of nesting lines that aren’t solid. They are lines and dots in a repeating pattern, and each of the nesting rows has a different pattern. Of course he’s seen it before, but he never paid attention to the fish, which is what Dean is showing him. “It’s the same fish, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It’s in a different pose, but the colors are the same.” Dean slides it closer to Cas so that he has a better view. He sees something odd about a few scales on the back of the fish and realizes that they form letters, too. “These scales even have the wppp letters, but they’re upside down.”

Dean moves over to the other side of him to see the detail. “There’s one scale separating the first and last two letters. That’s got to be significant, right?”

Cas squints at the picture. “I think there’s actually a fifth letter on the end. Doesn’t that look like an S?”

So, maybe it’s upside down on purpose?”

“Maybe. If so, it reads, “DD DMS. Does that mean anything?”

Dean feels an inkling of recognition, but he’s not entirely sure why. Bracing his hands on the counter, he drops his head down. Think, Winchester. DD DMS.”

“DD is a doctor of dentistry.” Cas taps his finger against the book. 

“That sounds rather random.”

Cas scoffs, “And which of these clues hasn’t been weird and random?”

“True. But then what is DMS?”

Cas shrugs and they both look back at the image. Going through all of the acronyms that Dean knows, he tries and discards each one. He’s still thinking when he grabs a water bottle for both of them from the fridge. He would prefer to have his reusable bottles, but the way they’ve had to cut and run during this adventure means that he would lose them all along the way. Sometimes, convenience is convenient.

“What if they aren’t meant to be looked at as a combination?” Cas suggests. 

“So, opposites?”

“Not necessarily. Just not two parts of a whole.”

Dean’s eyes lift when he finally recognizes the letters. “Oh, shit. GPS.”

“What?”

“There are two ways that you can measure GPS. Degree decimal or Degree/Minute/Second.”

Cas grins. “That’s right!” Then something is going to give us coordinates.”

“It might not be on this page. Or it could be the dots and lines of the bear.”

“This is so weird. Once we find out what’s going on, I’m going to a psychiatrist to find out why I’m so fucking paranoid.”

Dean chuckles and then puts a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not paranoid. If you took these crazy precautions, it’s because you felt you needed to.”

Cas looks back at him with a more somber expression. “That scares me even more.” 

Dean agrees. If Cas was this scared and went through so many layers of codes and hidden messages, whatever he was forced into was incredibly dangerous. The only reason that he isn’t insisting that they walk away and go start their lives over is that Cas wants this closure. He’ll tag along and help, but he isn’t going to let Cas cross that line of the risks outweighing the benefits. Even if he has to carry Cas away kicking and screaming, he refuses to lose him again.

Digging up some napkins from the kitchen drawer, they start planning out how to decipher the code. They try many different methods, which they discard almost immediately. The first option gave them a first number of 422, which isn’t a degree of latitude or longitude. The second one gave them a fraction. It isn’t until they realize that each circuit around the bear alternates direction and whether it applies to latitude or longitude that the numbers finally seem to make sense. 

When they have spent hours working through the puzzle, they enter the coordinates into Dean’s GPS and find a location deep in Yosemite. 

“We got it right?” Dean asks, looking to Cas for confirmation. 

“Yes!” They both jump up yelling in celebration. Dean leaps into Cas’s arms, whooping and pumping his arms over his head like they’ve won the Stanley Cup. When he slides down Cas’s front, he plants an obnoxious kiss on him and then continues his celebratory dance in a ridiculous mix of cheesy dance moves. By the time he flops on the couch, Cas has tears spilling over and he can’t catch his breath from all the laughter. 

Dean loves seeing him like this. They haven’t laughed like this since he’s been back, and they used to. Shit. They couldn’t go a single day without dissolving into giggles. Well, manly giggles, of course.

“We need to pack up and find another place to stay,” Dean comments once they’ve both settled. 

“I wish we could stay here.”

“Me too. But, it’s for the best. The spot we pinpointed is on the far side of the park to the south. It would be best to be closer. We don’t know what we’ll find there.”

  
  


On the trip to the cabin that Cas found online, this time using Dean’s other identity, John Coltrane; he stares at the key, willing it to give up its secrets. He half listens as Dean talks to him, but he is actually trying to force the metal to bend to his will. Not really bend. That’s impossible.

The key is too big to fit in a small lock like a lock box. It’s not a car key. More than anything, it looks like a key to a padlock. He strains to make out the engraving on the key, but it’s too filed away. He assumes he was the one to do it, so he can’t exactly complain, but-

“Cas!”

Dean’s voice pulls him out of his reverie and in his surprise, he drops the key. Thankfully, it just bounces to the sketchbook in his lap.

“Sorry, what?”

Dean laughs. “You were giving me directions and you spaced out.”

“Oh,” Cas looks back to the ipad and gives him the next turn. 

“Where’d you go?” Dean teases. 

“I was trying to figure out this key puzzle.” 

“Yeah? Any epiphanies?”

“Just that it doesn’t belong to a car.”

Dean chuckles and looks over at Cas as he spins it on the cover of the sketchbook. “Have you tried to match the key to anything in the book?” 

Cas stops spinning it and looks up at him in awe. “You’re amazing.”

Flipping the book open, he holds the key as he scans each page. One of the pages at the front of the book is an underwater scene with otters playing in a kelp forest. He moves the key around the page and gasps suddenly. 

“Holy shit! Dean, the exact outline of the key fits on this page.”

“No way,” he exclaims. He pulls over to the side of the road so he can see it. The large leaves on the kelp plants create the perfect negative space to fit the key. The outline wouldn’t fit any other key in the space. No, this is a Cinderella’s slipper kind of perfect fit.

“What was the clue we found on the other otter page?” he asks.

“That was the Ft.Ord one.”

“So, we didn’t have all of the information we needed when we were there before.”

“No, I guess we didn’t.” Cas admits and takes the time to plant a gentle kiss on Dean’s lips. Those lovely lips are so incredibly tempting that he has to have another. And then one more.

Dean is descending into need along with him. The gorgeous blue of his eyes is being swallowed by the abyss of his pupils. Dean growls out, “Let’s go get the keys to the cabin. I’m suddenly really hungry.”

Cas grins. “Yes, please.”

  
  


  
  


The next morning, they take the car to the closest place that they can reach by road and then start off on their hike to the GPS coordinates. Dean packed a survival pack because the destination is miles into the forest and who knows what could happen. They head out at first light, anxious to find out what Cas left for them.

When they are almost on top of the coordinates, Cas notices a sign above their heads in the trees. 

“Is this area near the edge of the park?” he asks.

“No, why?”

Cas points up at the sign that says simply, “Regresa!”

He explains, “It’s Spanish for ‘Go Back’. I figured that it’s a warning that you’re about to leave park lands.” 

As soon as he glances over at Dean, he stops his explanation. Dean obviously recognizes it. He’s staring up at it with a beatific look on his face. Nostalgia is riding him hard, so Cas lets him take a minute to explain.

“One of the hardest things for us when we were kids was keeping our things out of everyone else’s hands. Our dads were nosy, Sammy was a pest, and the kids at school were always trying to cause trouble between us. So, we came up with using that command. When we saw it, it meant turn around and go back the number of...whatever as you are years old.”

“What do you mean, ‘the number of whatever’?”

“For instance, if I hid something in a book in the library, I would tell you the title of a book and then ‘regresa’. That means that you would find the book and count back the number of books as you were years old. That would lead you to the right book.”

“So we were paranoid fuckers even back then?”

Dean laughs. “Yeah, I suppose we were. We used it to hide our stash of supplies in the woods when we would go camping, and in the locker room at school.”

“So, what measurement would I have used here?”

“It could be paces, trees, or even meters. Who knows?”

“Let’s try paces. That’s probably the smallest increment.”

“Okay, but we need to figure out the number of paces.”

“Oh, shit. We don’t know when I hid this.”

“Nope. But let's say 23 to 25?”

Cas scowls. “Why so few?”

“Because that’s how old you would have been in the missing years.”

“Dean, I’m 30.”

He receives a huff of laughter in response. “No, Cas. You’re only 27.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Dean shakes his head. “I’m 25, and you’re still 27.”

Cas drops his head back to glare at the sky. “They even fucked with my age,” he mutters.

“Think of it this way. You just got three years back.” Cas turns the glare on him before walking back the way they came, counting under his breath. When he stops, he turns and looks to Dean for help. 

“Don’t look at me. You’re the one who hid something out here.” 

Cas’s mood is rapidly turning sour, his movements jerky and his silence is decidedly not comfortable. Dean is able to give him one bit of good news. “Trees or paces pretty much puts us in the same vicinity, so I think this is as good of a range as we’re going to get.”

“But what are we looking for? And don’t tell me that I’m the one who put it here. I’m aware. I just don’t remember it.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry for poking at you.”

Dean climbs a couple of trees that appear to have things lodged in the valley between branches, but there’s nothing but squirrel nests and broken branches to be recovered. There’s a large rock on the edge of the path that looks good and buried in the ground, but when Cas sits down on it, it comes loose much too easily. Dean happens to notice the flailing of his limbs to catch himself from falling, but instead of laughing, he scowls. 

“Hop up for a second, Cas.”

When he does, Dean easily flips the rock over, and they scrape and dig under it with their hands. “This has got to be it. This dirt is really loose compared to the rest of the trail.”

His pronouncement makes them both dig faster and with greater enthusiasm. A couple of feet down, they feel something hard and they brush away the dirt on top. Dark Coleman green shows through the rich earth, and Dean practically gasps. When Dean sees the lid, tears are in his eyes. 

“Shit, are you okay?”

Dean nods, tears falling as he laughs and wiggles the box out of the ground. It’s an old battered green cooler, just like the one they bought together all those years ago. The cooler has kept the contents of it safe from the weather and nature. It was a brilliant way to protect what turns out to be Cas’s research. 

As soon as the lid is lifted, Cas goes nuts over its contents. He’s flipping through the papers, oohing and aahing over all of the notebooks. Through his running commentary, Dean is more focused on the cooler. When Cas looks up to see him running his hand over the lid fondly, he stops and sets his work aside. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Did I tell you about our cooler?”

“No.”

“We had saved up all of our money from our summer jobs, and we went into the Army surplus store, feeling so proud of ourselves for being able to buy what we needed to go on real adventures. The tent and sleeping bag were affordable, but we needed something to keep food cold. Other than the cheap Styrofoam coolers, they had Coleman ones, which were way too expensive for our budget. There’s no way we could have afforded it except the shop owner gave it to us half off because it was dented.” Dean smiles. “I wouldn’t doubt it if he threw it on the ground just so he could sell it to us. Gus was a great guy.” Snapping out of the nostalgia, Dean continues the story. 

“Anyway, it became our prized possession. It stayed with us in our favorite hiding spot in the woods. So that it didn’t get taken, we buried it under a corner of the tent. Every time we camped, we brought ice and food. That little cooler kept everything so cold. Except for ice cream. We tried that once.” Dean shakes his head at the memory. “By the time we got to it, we had to drink it like a milkshake. Still tasted great, especially right from your lips.”

Looking up at Cas, he doesn’t see a little smile like he expects, but a look of devastation. His eyes are watery and his chin quivers. Before he can ask what’s wrong, Cas leaps at him, kissing him with urgency. Barely separating from his lips, he sobs, “I want to remember you. I want to know all of our stories; I want to share these memories. Why would they take this from me?”

“Oh, baby. I wish I could give them back to you. I really do.” Dean hates to see Cas upset, and right now it’s like a tidal wave overtaking them both. Cas hasn’t really dealt with mourning the life he lost. They haven’t taken the time to stop and let him process it. They’ve been so consumed with chasing clues and staying ahead of whoever is responsible, that he’s just had to pack it away. Like a crack in the dam, letting this emotion out floods him with all the rest. 

In between choking down the rough cries, he holds Dean tighter than he ever has before.

“Fuck the research. Fuck finding out who did this. I don’t care why they stole my life; I just want it back. It’s not fair! I want to be the boy you fell for.”

Hearing it breaks Dean’s heart. He’s never been more angry at those that took him. “Baby, you may not remember being the boy I fell for, but you’ve become the man I fall for more every day. I love you. Just as you are.”

In the crook of his neck, Cas continues to cry, but his body isn’t shaking with the force of his weeping anymore. His words are watery and faint when he murmurs, “I love you, too.”

When he’s all cried out, Dean kisses him on the head and suggests, “Let’s take our find and go back to the cabin. We may be way ahead of whoever is looking for you, but I don’t like taking unnecessary risks.”

Cas nods and wipes his eyes on his sleeve as he sits back. “Sorry for falling apart.”

Dean puts everything back into the cooler as he reassures Cas. “There’s no reason to apologize. Do you remember what a disaster I was when I first saw you? I owe you at least a dozen breakdowns before we’re close to even.”

He bursts out in an uncontrollable laugh. “Yeah, you were a wreck.”

“Hey! I was mourning you, you asshole.”

  
  



	8. Closing In

Pouring over the work that Cas left in the cooler takes days. Unfortunately, most of that job is left to Cas because it’s complete and utter gibberish to Dean. He can handle college level math and science, but Cas’s notes are on a completely different level. When Dean looks at page after page of equations and notes, he isn’t quite sure whether he’s supposed to read them or solve them. 

Without being able to help with research, he’s relegated to taking care of Cas while he’s in mad scientist mode. They are able to extend their stay in the cabin, which concerns Dean quite a bit. They shouldn’t be able to extend a stay in a cabin inside Yosemite on a moment’s notice. They shouldn’t have been able to find one that was available in the first place. This is a popular tourist spot in the height of their season. Scowling, he decides he’s going to check in with his friendly, neighborhood hacker when he makes a grocery run.

“Hey, do you need anything before I go?”

Cas looks up, mouth parted in that cute way he has when he’s focused on his work.

“Where are you going?”

“Food, sweetheart.”

“No, I’m good.”

Dean heads for the door slowly, waiting for him to change his mind. 

“Oh! I’m out of tea. If you find some oolong?”

“Sure. Anything else?”

Cas smiles and shakes his head. Dean pauses with his hand on the door knob.

“Sorry! I would love to have the blueberry pancakes again, if you don’t mind making them.”

Dean chuckles. “Of course I don’t mind. I know they’re your favorite.”

He waits with the door open, but this time Cas really is done. In the car, he grabs the burner phone and turns it on. He doesn’t leave it on in case it can be tracked. He has three missed messages, all from Sam, which makes sense since only Sam and Charlie have the number.

Dialing Charlie, he thinks about what to say to Sam on the phone. He doesn’t want to worry him unnecessarily.

“Yell’o.”

“Charlie! How’s it going?”

“Dean! How’s it going on your quest in the mountains?”

Dean laughs. “So that is you removing roadblocks?”

“Of course. I have to look out for my favorite boss. I can’t let you sleep in that ratty old tent.”

“I’m not your boss, Charlie.”

“Sure. Not yet.”

“Not ever. I can’t afford you.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she teases. 

“That was the confirmation I needed. Thanks. I’ll be able sleep tonight.”

“You just got Cas back and you’re worried about sleep?”

There is some thickly-applied innuendo in her words, but he does a moderate job of diffusing it. “Hush, you. You don’t want to hear about what Cas and I get up to at night.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“I do have one thing that’s bugging me. Can you do a search on WPPP or Weaponized Pollinator Pheromone Project?”

“Sure. Is that what Cas was working on?”

“We’re still not sure. There are a lot of the clues that refer to it, but there’s not really any information on it. We think that’s what they’re doing out at the DOI lab in Waterford, but we don’t know for sure.”

“I’m on it.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

“Anything for you, boss.” She hangs up before he can correct her.

According to the directions, he still has a few miles to go, so he dials Sam. He would give just about anything to have his smart phone back. Living with a flip phone is practically prehistoric.

“Dean?”

“Hey, little brother.”

A very put upon sigh comes across the line. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Did you not listen to my messages?”

“No. I just turned my phone on and saw that you’d called.”

“There have been several people poking around campus asking about you.”

Damn. That is the last thing that he wanted. “Man, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pulled you into this shit.”

“Fuck that. I’m glad you did. You know I’d do anything for you and Cas. I’m just letting you know so you’re prepared.”

“Who was it that was asking?”

“Someone who tried to make me believe that he was law enforcement.”

“Tall, ugly, radiates bad news?”

“Sounds like a match.”

Dean sighs. “If it’s the one I’m thinking it might be, he’s dangerous, Sam. Don’t be anywhere alone with this guy.”

“Already assumed.”

“There were also people posing as recruiters from CalTech.”

“Recruiting for what?”

“They said they were looking for students interested in Intellectual Property Law.”

“What the fuck? Does CalTech even have a law school?”

“No! I checked after they left.”

“Fuck. They’re getting desperate because they don’t know where Cas is.”

“That’s a good thing, though, right? If they knew, they’d be wherever you are instead of spinning their wheels here.”

Dean pulls into a parking space and cuts the engine. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I’m going to smash this phone and get a new one. I’ll give you a call tonight.”

“Be safe, Dean. Take care of Cas.”

“I will.”

  
  


When Dean gets back and makes some dinner, he has to sit down on the floor in the living area and practically hand-feed the delicious spinach artichoke chicken to Cas. His gorgeous and brilliant boyfriend is in full scientist mode, in which he frequently forgets everything else, including when it is time to eat.

It takes several teasing touches and looks before Cas returns to the present. Sex has always been the best way to reach Cas when he’s in this head space. Scientist or no, he’s a healthy, red-blooded male with a voracious appetite. Dean might have to bash him over the head with hints, but as soon as he picks up the trail, Dean has his full attention.

When Cas moves his hand to Dean’s inner thigh, his touch light and teasing, Dean smirks at him. “Oh, there you are. I thought I was going to have to parade around here nude for you to pay attention.”

Cas smiles and drops his fingers along the front of his jeans, caressing the lovely bulge. “I would be completely on board with that idea, Dean.”

“I’ll bet. I would love to move forward with that fantastic idea, but I should call Charlie first and see if she’s found out anything.”

Reluctantly, Cas pulls away with a smoldering look that promises to pick up where they left off later. “Can you put her on speaker? I want to hear.”

Dean does and soon hears a timid hello on the other end. “Charlie, it’s Dean.”

“Oh, hell. You scared me. Is this a new phone?”

“Sorry. Yeah, there’s been some interest in us near Sam, so I wanted to tie up that loose end.”

“Want me to check it out?”

“If you don’t mind? Do you have Sam’s number? He’ll be able to tell you more directly what’s been going on.” 

“Sure. Now let me tell you what I found out about your mystery project.”

“Already? That was fast.” Cas interjects. 

“Yeah, but the reason it’s so fast is that there’s hardly anything to mention. I dug into it for an hour and got close to bupkis.”

“Damn. I was afraid of that.” Dean leans back on his hands and stares at the ceiling. Can nothing be easy in this search?

“It’s not all bad news, though.”

“Listening.”

“This project is so secret that no one knows about it, not even the military.”

“I don’t want to know how you know that, do I?”

“No, you definitely do not.”

“All I have for sure is a name. Colonel Crowley. He’s mentioned in some unredacted sections of documents that also mention the project.”

“Well, it’s better than nothing.” Cas adds and Dean smiles.

“There’s one more open project that mentions him. The decommissioning of Fort Ord.”

Their eyes jump up and clash with each other. “That’s the connection.”

“Does that help at all?” 

“Yes, it absolutely does, Charlie. Thank you.”

“So, should I find a place for you in Monterey?”

“We can do it.”

“But I can find a nice place off the grid,” she tempts.

“Alright. Send me the details.” They say their goodbyes and sit quietly for a minute. Cas is already gone again, nibbling on his bottom lip as he tries to integrate everything they’ve learned. It’s a puzzle, and Cas can’t resist a challenging puzzle. 

Dean brings the dishes back to the sink to clean up while he lets Cas work. Leaping to his feet a few minutes later, Cas digs around in the cooler. He flips through one of the notebooks and brings it over for Dean to look at. “I think I know what they were planning and how they were using me.”

“Seriously?”

Cas nods and Dean gestures him over to the table. “The W in WPPP stands for Weaponized. You and I both know that I would never have anything to do with any kind of weapon.”

“Right. Not even a question.”

“Reading through my thesis and going through my notes shed some light on what I was working on. Apparently, I had figured out a way to synthesize pheromones that could fool animals into believing they were real. Specifically, the alarm pheromone in bees.”

“What does that do? Is it a warning system?”

“Exactly. Bees use it to warn the others to stay away from something dangerous.”

“Okay. Sounds useful.”

“Yes, especially in the altruistic application I was anticipating using it for. My thesis was centered around the idea of using an animal’s biology to control their behavior.”

Dean furrows his brow and nods. “In what ways?” 

“Nothing nefarious. In the paper, I cited several examples, but the one applicable to pollination was to mass produce the synthetic pheromone and use it to spray the yards of people with extreme allergies to bees. So many people can’t spend time outside because of the fear of being stung.”

Dean smiles warmly at Cas. “I told you that you were too kind to be an evil mastermind.”

Cas huffs and shakes his head. “I may not be, but someone is. I believe that they were planning to take my synthesizing process and formula to create a biochemical weapon.”

“Could it really be that dangerous?” 

“Yes. Think about it, Dean. If our country targeted the agricultural areas of our enemies and sprayed the fields with alarm pheromone, no bees would go near the plants, and they wouldn’t be pollinated. No fruits or vegetables would form. Imagine that on a large scale.”

Suddenly, the impact of Cas’s research seems dire. “This could be used as biochemical warfare that could cripple entire ecosystems.”

Dean can follow Cas’s train of thought just from the fear in his eyes. Dean knows that he was worried about bringing something evil into the world. He’d mentioned being the next Oppenheimer when they’d first started thinking about how he could be involved. This isn’t the atomic bomb, but it could be used to cause massive devastation. 

“Whatever they were trying to do, it is in no way your fault, Cas.” 

“I keep trying to tell myself that, but it’s at least a little my fault. Why would I have continued this research? Why wouldn’t I have fought this?”

“My guess is that you either did fight or that you couldn’t.” Cas wanders to the fridge and picks up a cold water bottle. Instead of opening, he puts it against his temple.

“I wonder if this is the commercial application that you were so upset about?”

Cas tilts his head, and he doesn’t even need to ask. “Remember I told you that right before you…well, they took you, you were suddenly very upset with the program and your advisor?”

“Oh, that’s right. You said that I was asking you to move to Baltimore to take a research position at Johns Hopkins.”

“Before that, your advisor was a mentor. You’d always spoken so highly of him.”

“How sudden was this change of heart?”

Dean shrugs. “From what you told me, it sounded pretty quick, but I get the feeling that you weren’t telling me everything.”

“I’d been keeping secrets?”

“Not so much secrets as trying to keep up a happy front. I got the impression that you didn’t want to burden me.”

Cas looks down, nibbling on his lip. “I wish I would have.”

He glances up and sees agony on Cas’s face. “No, no, no. Cas, I am not blaming you for anything that happened. I only meant that I wish you’d felt that you could be completely honest with me.”

“But, if I had told you, none of this subterfuge would be necessary. You would have known exactly what I was working on and who was involved. You would have known-”

Dean steps into his personal space and puts his arms around him to give comfort. Rocking with him, he tries for rational thought. “Then I might have been taken or worse.”

Cas shoves him back. “Don’t say that!” 

He hasn’t seen that particular brand of hurt and anger on Cas in a long while. Cas runs both of his hands into his hair and tugs. “Fuck. That makes me want to puke just thinking of it.”

“Now you understand why I get a little possessive and paranoid?” Empathy radiates back at him and Cas nods while swallowing hard. They give each other a silent moment, and then it’s straight back to work.

“We know Crowley was involved, and probably my advisor…”

“Dr. Lucas.”

“Obviously, there must be more.”

“We know at least part of your current lab is involved. Excuse me, Jimmy Novak’s lab.”

Cas’s mouth parts in confusion. “That name seems so foreign to me already.”

“But no new memories?”

Cas shakes his head and sits back down at the table. “Well, I’ve had dreams, but I don’t know if they’re memories like the other one or just dreams based on things that you’ve told me.”

“Ask me about them the next time. I’m curious to see if this might eventually wear off.”

“Me too.”

  
  
  


  
  
  


They make it to Monterey in record time. The location that Charlie set up for them is perfect. It’s within walking distance to the front gates of Fort Ord’s park area, and she assured them that it’s as off grid as they can get and still be civilized. 

While Cas continues digging through the notebooks, Dean sits down at the kitchen table next to the cooler and decides to organize the hodge podge of papers and notebooks. He’s not surprised that Cas’s research came to them all helter skelter. Cas is a genius, but the stereotype of a neat freak doesn’t fit. Cas is more like the mad scientist, who’s pulled into questioning and experimentation while the world carries on unnoticed around him. 

Dean tends to approach things in quite the opposite manner. He has to categorize things; make order and group ideas together. As he sorts pieces by date, hoping to figure out a rough chronology, a playing card sifts through the stack in his hand and hits the table. The card, the Ace of Hearts, has a combination of strange letters and numbers drawn down one edge of it and a series of numbers down the other. In the center of the card, there is a large star drawn in marker.

“Cas, have you seen this yet?” 

“Seen what?” he asks as he comes in from the living area. He picks up the card and studies it.

“I’m assuming that the card must have a meaning. Any ideas?”

Dean scratches his thumb across his forehead and admits, “We used to play cards all the time when we camped. Our favorite game was poker.”

Cas hums in concentration as he turns the card in his fingers. “Does the ace of hearts mean anything in particular?”

“Well, in some games, it’s a high card, and I know the ace of spades is the death card.”

“In fortune telling?”

“Something like that. Let me look it up.”

“The ace of hearts means that all is not well,” Dean recites.

With a scoff, Cas replies, “Well, no shit.”

“I put a star on it. Would that have a meaning other than that sappy Greek love story?”

“Hey! It’s not sappy. It’s romantic,” Dean practically growls. 

Cas looks down to give him a teasing look. “I’m so sorry, pookie. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Alright, brat,” Dean sighs and scoops Cas off of his feet when he stands. Cas squawks at the indignity of being tossed over Dean’s shoulder and carried into the living room. Dean makes it worse by popping him firmly on the ass. “I’ve had about enough of your sass today.”

The smack hurts, but not in a bad way. It wakes up his nerve endings and makes them tingle. Cas wants to feel it again, so he does whatever he can think of to push Dean’s buttons. When Dean does it again, Cas wiggles into it and lets out a little moan. The man carrying him stops dead. Cas can hear him breathing heavily, and then Dean turns toward the bedroom they haven’t really even been in yet.

He braces himself for being tossed onto the bed, but instead, he slides down the front of Dean’s body, being guided and kept very close. When their eyes lock, Cas sees all the delicious signs that Dean wants him. His pupils are blown wide, his lips are spit damp from being licked, his skin is flush, temporarily hiding the lovely freckles on the bridge of his nose.

“You are so damn sexy,” Dean purrs and moves his hands from his waist up under his shirt. Skin on skin always makes him go pliant, and this time is no different. Whenever Dean wants him, is frantic to have him, it makes him feel indestructible. This beautiful man chose him, continues to choose him, and if they don’t screw it up, will always choose him. The realization is an elemental type of victory. One that is better than conquering a nation or winning the Nobel Prize. Dean is everything. 

When they’ve both been satisfied and are curled together basking in the afterglow, Cas whispers against his lips, “Okay, that story isn’t sappy. I’m sorry I made fun.” 

“You’re the one who told me that story, if you remember correctly.”

“I don’t.” 

Dean looks mortified. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Cas. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, it’s okay,” Cas laughs. “I’m glad you aren’t walking on eggshells with me as much.”

“Still. That was …not right.” Cas plants a smacking kiss on his lips and goes to get water for them. On the way, he sees the card on the floor and the number hits him right between the eyes. The pain is staggering and he must cry out, because Dean is suddenly behind him, helping him down to the ground and cooing sweet words to him. 

“Easy, baby. Close your eyes. I’ve got you.” 

When he catches his breath, he points towards the sofa. “The lock on the folder.”

Dean gets it and Cas stretches to pick up the card. Turning it so that the neatly written numbers are facing him. “Try that combination.”

The folder is a metal file folder like you might find in a hospital chart, with a number lock on it like you’d find on a briefcase. It’s a strange little contraption, and they’d set it aside after trying some basic numbers like birthdays. Dean enters the numbers while Cas leans heavily against him. When he slides the lever, it pops open. They both laugh with joy at getting another clue solved. 

Dean opens the folder and sees…he’s not quite sure what he sees. The page is chaos; paint, ink, bits of magazines. When he stares in complete confusion, Cas peeks an eye open. “What is it?”

“I’m looking at it and I still have no fucking clue.” 

Reluctantly, Cas sits up and takes the canvas, for that’s what it is, from Dean. Turning it in different directions and at different angles, the only thing he recognizes is, “more stars.”

He hands it back to Dean, physically tired, but more than that. He’s worn down from the puzzles and clues. Are they even getting anywhere? How many more layers are they going to have to peel back to find the truth? 

Dean keeps inspecting the bizarre collage, finally noticing an almost transparent, yellowish line hidden beneath the scribbled notes and paint. “It’s fluorescent paint,” he says and immediately feels the surge of adrenaline. Getting him and Cas dressed takes a few minutes, but Dean keeps forging ahead because he knows exactly how they’re going to solve this particular clue. They only have a couple blocks to walk. 

“C’mon, Cas. We’ve come so far. You can’t quit now.”

“There’s just going to be another clue and another one after that.”

“There’s only a page or two in the sketchbook that we haven’t solved. We’re close.”

“And the key, and the playing card, and probably a dozen other things we haven’t found yet.” Cas slumps back into the couch sounding dejected.

“I don’t think so, but I’m not going to force you, sweetheart. If you don’t want to know more, I say we go find a beach somewhere in South America and just relax.”

“Neither of us have any money.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest. “I definitely preferred the brat.”

Cas flips him off with a nasty scowl.

“Okay. How about if I go check it out on my own?”

“No!” Cas sits up, ramrod straight. “I don’t want you doing any of this alone. It could be dangerous.”

Dean helps him to his feet and kisses him on the nose. “I have had combat training, carry a knife and a gun, and you’re worried it’s too dangerous?”

“I refuse to let you get hurt.” Cas stomps over to the door, his head held at a haughty angle. He holds it open. “Are you coming?”

Dean grins and walks through the door. It works every time.

Walking to the smoke shop takes no time at all, and the area isn’t busy considering it is fully dark on a Friday night. There are lights everywhere, and several shops have propped their doors open to encourage walking traffic to enter. 

They duck in through beaded curtains in traditional Rastafarian colors, and Dean is amazed by how hazy the shop is with lingering, thick smoke. 

“Oh, hey, man.” The kid behind the counter says, seeing them through heavily lidded eyes.

“Black light?”

The kid giggles. “Wh-what?”

Cas goes closer and speaks louder. “Do you have a black light?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. Let me show you.” Waving them around the counter, he takes them into the back room that’s filled with all manner of glass pipes, a large inventory of adult dvds, and some frankly obscene sex toys. 

“Right over there. That poster has a black light over it.”

“Thanks, man,” Dean says and gives his offered fist a bump. Cas wanders over to the wall with the metal file and Dean is right behind him.

As soon as he slips the canvas out into his hands, the collage comes alive and glows. There are intricate lines that criss-cross and intersect over the surface. “It’s a map. It has to be.”

“Yeah, but of what?” Dean asks. 

In a couple of places, the stars that they could see in the light are glowing in a deep purple color. The stars. They must be important. 

“Only two of the stars are filled in. That’s got to be a clue.” 

Cas looks to him expectantly, almost pleading with him to use their deep well of history to draw a conclusion. “I’m sorry. The only thing I know about stars is the story that we turned into our own fairy tale.”

“Tell me again? I don’t remember the story.” There’s a frantic edge to his demand, and Dean feels terrible that he doesn’t have the answer he’s so desperate to find. 

“Okay, I remember that Andromeda disappointed her parents, who were king and queen, and they tied her up to a rock and left her for some creature to eat.”

“That’s horrible,” Cas judges with a wrinkled nose.

“Yeah, well, welcome to mythology.”

“How is this romantic at all?”

“Perseus comes along and sees her, and helps her escape her fate. The king and queen are angry that he intervened, and he uses Medusa’s head to turn them to stone.”

“So he rescued the damsel in distress?”

“Well, this was thousands of years ago. She might have been the first damsel in distress.”

“So, am I the damsel in this story?” Cas sniffs, not exactly impressed with the concept. 

“Maybe today, but from time to time, I’ve been the damsel that needed his brave knight to come save him.”

“That’s very sweet,” Cas says, eyeing him with suspicion.

“The details of the story aren’t important. It’s what happened to them afterward that makes it important to us.”

“That they became a constellation?”

Dean smiles, his teeth glowing in the black light. “Yeah. We have an epic love, sweetheart. When we die, we’ll take our place in the heavens. We’ll live on as new constellations that everyone will learn about for centuries. They’ll point up at the sky and say, ‘Those stars connect to form Dean, and those ones make Cas, and they will be together forever.’”

Cas has lost the urgency and his eyes have softened. “You’re the most romantic man alive.”

“Hey, don’t make fun. You asked me to tell you the story.”

Cas takes his face in his hands and kisses him soundly. “I’m not making fun. That is a lovely story.”

“I hope it comes true.” They startle away from each other, surprised to find the young clerk still in the room. Neither of them had paid any attention to him once they put the canvas under the light.

After taking a picture of the lit up map with Dean’s camera, they go to a little cafe to have a bite. They each have a beer and share appetizers, more interested in their latest discovery than food.

“The stars are bugging me.” Cas says as he rolls the tall pilsner glass from side to side on its edge.

“Why?”

“It feels like we’re missing something obvious.”

“Hasn’t that been the way we’ve felt about most of the clues?”

With a huff, Cas agrees, “I’d like to visit my past self and punch him in the nose, if we’re being honest.”

Dean grins his brightest, “I’ve been having fun.”

The look he receives is a glare that could bring down the heavens. “What? You have to admit, the clues have been challenging.”

“Unnecessarily so.”

Dean shakes his head. “I mean, I knew you were smart, but the way you’ve embedded everything and used parts of our past to alter what the clues are actually telling us? It’s masterful. If I haven’t already told you, I’m really impressed.”

“Thanks. I just wish I’d been a little more forthcoming.”

Dean belts out a laugh. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  
  


As they’re walking back to their temporary home, Dean stops short and pulls the sketchbook out of his coat pocket. 

“There are only two pages that we haven’t solved.”

“Right.”

“So the answer must be on one of them.”

“I like where this is going.” Dean can feel that Cas is picking up on the excitement. He walks over to a newspaper box and sets the book on top. Flipping through the pages, he says, “This page, which doesn’t have a star on it anywhere, and this one.”

Now that they’ve turned to it, they both see what they’ve missed all the other times they’ve looked at it. The small drawing of Andromeda seems to leap off the page. She’s bound to a rock and screaming for help. Over on the other side is a man holding a head. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of that story before,” Dean says with disappointment. 

“Why is there an otter in the corner? What a bizarre combination. I must have been high.”

“You didn’t do drugs. Ever.”

Cas smacks him in the arm. “And yet you believed them when they said I overdosed.”

“I was in mourning. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Wait. The otter pictures have all led to Ft. Ord.” Cas says.

“Okay. Does that mean the map is of the fort?”

“Maybe. That’s still a nebulous connection.” When Cas lifts the page, Dean remembers. 

“Shit. I noticed this when we were in Yosemite. Look.”

He holds the page at an angle and holds his hand under it. “There is a pattern of holes in the page.”

Cas starts bouncing on his toes. “That’s got to be the constellations, right? Wait. What if that page is supposed to overlay the map?”

Cas gets the canvas out and lines it up under the page. Shifting it until it lines up with one of the stars directly under the Andromeda picture, the other star lines up with Perseus perfectly. One of the holes turns out to be in the shape of a star. 

“Holy shit.” Cas covers his mouth in shock. “We found the lab, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” His excitement is contagious. They wrap each other in their arms, Cas lifting Dean off his feet and doing a little jig. 

Once they celebrate the little victory, Cas keeps processing the connections. “The sea otter page fit the outline of the key, so that’s got to be significant.”

“I wish you had the key on you.”

“I do.”

“Wanna go take a look?”

“You bet your sweet ass I do.”

  
  


Dean is able to match up the black light map to the one that he sketched out on their first trip to Fort Ord, so they know exactly where they’re heading. They move quietly, as Dean has taught Cas, and they don’t use lights even though it’s the middle of the night. Dean forces him to be patient and watch the guards so that they don’t get caught unaware.

They don’t immediately see the spot where the lab is supposed to be, but Cas is getting the onslaught of pain that comes with recognition of something from his past. He knows it’s close. Finally they find an unassuming door that carries no identifying marks and is hidden by a large bush. Cas tries the key in the locked door, and it fits. They both hear the lock disengage, but Dean won’t let him open it. When he tries to pull, Dean shakes his head.

As much as he wants to argue, Dean hasn’t steered him wrong yet, so he reluctantly goes with him. When they are far enough away from the restricted area of the base, Cas finally asks why.

“We don’t know what’s behind that door, Cas. We need more information before we just throw open the door to hell and hope for the best.”

“But the key unlocks it.”

“Yes, and that’s going to have to be enough for right now. Let’s go back and see if we can figure out the rest.”

  
  


Cas flops down on the floor of the living room when they get back, leaning against the couch. He picks up the playing card again, which had been dropped in their rush to find a black light. It has the star on it. Certainly it has more to offer. 

“Dean, did I speak Russian?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Your dad was part Russian, though.”

“I think that’s what these letters are.”

Dean brings the iPad with him when he sits down. They download the Cyrillic keyboard and awkwardly type in the letters of a translation app. 

“It means thesis defense?” Dean asks. 

Cas laughs and reaches for his thesis, which he’d left on the couch. Dean might have issues with his clutter, but he usually has things right within reach.

Cas scans through the back portion of the paper until he reaches the section on the defense. Down the left margin, there are two extraneous rows that look like gibberish, printed by mistake. 

“That’s a cypher for a replacement code. See? When you see a letter in this row, you replace it with the one in this row,” Dean explains.

“We don’t have the original text.”

Dean sighs and rubs his eyes. “We have a hell of a lot of paper, though.”

  
  


They both look over at the cooler and the air is yanked from their lungs. The thought of trying this cypher against hundreds of pages of writing is too much to process. 

“Wait!” Cas asks for the sketch book and turns it to the one page they haven’t yet solved. In the top corner, there are a few little doodles, innocuous and ignored. One is a heart and another is a large A. 

“The ace of hearts. Cas, you never cease to amaze me, sweetheart.”

“You’re just saying that because now we don’t have to decode what amounts to War and Peace.”

With a kiss, Dean hums his agreement.

Cas gets a piece of paper and starts transcribing the page. There are several times that Dean can see him getting angry, his knuckles turning white from the pressure on the pencil, and he tries to peek over his shoulder. 

“Has anyone ever told you how annoying that is?” Cas snaps at him. 

“If you’d tell me what you’re writing, I wouldn’t have to snoop.”

“Just be patient.”

Dean goes into their room and takes a quick shower, mostly just to have a reason to stay out of Cas’s hair for a few minutes. Feeling invigorated and ready to tackle more research, he walks into a very different room. Cas is still holding the book in his hands, but he is sobbing. 

Rushing to his side, he asks, “Are you hurt? Baby, what is it? What can I do?”

Cas is too overcome to speak and hands the transcribed notes to Dean. His heart is racing. What could possibly be bad enough to make Cas cry?

The first part of the message congratulates them for getting to the end. He tells them that the extreme caution was necessary and that anything less would likely have been discovered. He tells them of his working conditions and that even if he appears to be complying, he’s not. He tells them that he hopes that they are together and that the scavenger hunt was just a matter of Cas going around to collect the things that he’d stashed away. From there, it turns rather dark.

“I hope that is the case, but I very much doubt it. My supervisor in this lab is getting quite suspicious of my work. I’m no longer allowed to leave the grounds of the lab or the farm when they bus me out there. They believe that I’m holding back on them, and their threats are escalating. I’ve been warned that if I can’t contribute to the lab, then they will use me as a guinea pig. Considering that they have all manner of horrifying projects underway, including super viruses and circuitry for implanting in human brains, I’d prefer not to be a guinea pig.”

The rest of the message is directly to Dean. He sucks in a breath, realizing that he’d already thought Cas was dead when he’d sat alone writing his goodbye. His vision goes watery as he thinks of Cas being so strong and facing this evil on his own.

Dean, 

My everything. 

How do I say goodbye? I thought we’d have eternity together, painted in the stars. I was convinced that nothing could ever separate us. Even though I was wrong about that, one thing is true. You are the only one who will ever hold my heart. 

I was incredibly lucky to find you, my love. I was the most awkward, geeky child with bad eyesight and a terrible home life. And you saw me. You saw straight through that trembling exterior and to the very soul of me. For years, I woke up with your smile and found peace resting against your heart. No one in this life gets to be happier than that. 

Thank you for loving me. I know you will feel so much pain, because I’ve felt it every second of every day since they brought me here over two years ago. I wish I could save you from this agony even if it meant that you didn’t remember me. It would be worth it to keep you content and ignorant of what you’ve lost. I want nothing more than to console you and help you through your grieving. But that’s what they’ve stolen from us. For me, I don’t think that I have much longer to grieve.

No matter what happens to me, know that I love you. 

I love you more than is sane, and I’ll love you until the end of time. 

  
  


Forever, 

Cas

  
  


Tears are falling on the paper, warping the thin sheet and washing away the graphite. Dean doesn’t look up, just reaches for Cas and pulls him close. 

Being in each other’s arms should be enough. It should take away all of the sadness of his words written years ago. They’ve overcome the most difficult hurdles to be together, but they never should have had to. These people destroyed them both when they kidnapped Cas. Taking time to feel that loss, that violation, is necessary to really heal. They go to bed, more to snuggle closer to each other comfortably than because they are tired. 

“I want to go to the lab and find out who did this to us.”

“Cas, it’s too dangerous at this point. We’d be on a military base underground. They have security we can’t account for. From what you said in the message, the only way you could get away near the end was if you were going to the farm.”

“Dean, why did we follow the clues this far if we weren’t going to follow them to their conclusion? That makes no sense.” 

“It’s just too-”

“Dangerous. I heard you, Dean. But this is my life that they stole. I want my life back and I want the people who did this to me punished.”

“No.”

“Are you seriously telling me no?”

“I can’t lose you. Cas, I can’t.” Dean's voice breaks, too soon after their emotional goodbye that came years too late.

Cas soothes his fears with touch. “Baby, we have the element of surprise. They don’t know that we have all of this information. They don’t know that you’re helping me.”

Dean blinks back the emotion and tries to find his objectiveness, his rational mind. It’s so hard when Cas is involved. But, Cas is right. It’s his choice.

“If we’re going to do this, we have to be smart about it. Let’s think this through. Why do you think they did what they did to your memory, Cas? Why would they make a brilliant scientist forget his research?”

“To tie up loose ends?” 

“You don’t do that until you have the finished product, right? Did those bees at the farm look like they were a finished product?”

Cas scowls. “You’re right. They don’t have what they need. It’s like they are altering the pheromones in the bees, not creating synthetic ones. Why would they be that far off?”

“I’m assuming that you had something to do with that.”

“You think I would intentionally sabotage the research we were doing?”

“Wouldn’t you? In the message, you insinuated that you were. You said it might look like you were complying, but you weren’t.”

Cas is thinking about it now. “I was taken against my will and forced to work for them on this project. I said as much in my notes.”

“You’re stubborn enough to work on falsified research for years.”

Cas grins. “So do you think that they gave up on me and put me out to pasture?”

“I don’t think so. They’d already faked your death. Why wouldn’t they just get rid of you if they didn’t need you anymore?”

“But I can’t help them if I can’t remember my work.”

“I think it goes beyond that. That’s one of the things that terrifies me. You mentioned the other projects they were working on and it makes me think that they used you as a test subject.”

“I figured the same thing, honestly. It explains the scar and my memory issues.” 

“And the debilitating headaches when you try to access neurons that have been physically blocked.”

Cas nods saddened. “There might not be any hope of getting my memories back. Especially if they used a breaker circuit like the ones they described in those research papers. They are based on a whole lot of speculation. Those few dreams might be all I ever recover.”

“If they put a chip in, they must know how to remove it, right? We’ll ask them to remove it.” Dean being an optimist should clue him in how desperate the situation is.

“Maybe if we threaten to expose them if they don’t?”

“There’s my diabolical genius,” Dean laughs. When the mirth fades, Dean tells him earnestly, “I hate this. I don’t want to put you in any more danger.”

“You aren’t. I’m choosing this on my own, Dean.”

“There have to be rules. No dying. No getting caught. No unnecessary risk taking.”

Cas smiles and rolls to lean over Dean. “Those rules work both ways, you know.”

“Of course.”

“Well, in case this goes horribly wrong, are any last wishes I can fulfill?”

Dean huffs out a laugh. “Was that an ‘our last night on earth’ line?”

“Something like that,” Cas smirks. 

“You can’t use that line. I’m not actually a virgin. I remember all of the hundreds of times you’ve fucked me.”

“I don’t, though, and I’d very much like to.”

“Oh, Jesus, Cas. Me too.” His words end on a low, rumble of a groan when Cas moves over him and skims his body along Dean’s.

“Now that I’ve felt it for myself, I understand why you’ve been so nostalgic about getting my dick inside of you,” Cas teases with another pass, grinding down onto him and kissing that tender spot just underneath his ear. 

“Nostalgic? Try desperate,” Dean breathes and arches up into the lovely contact. Cas is already mostly hard, and if he keeps dragging that heavy length across Dean’s cock, he’s going to be just as hard in no time.

Cas samples the skin at every point of his neck, sucking along the tendons and nipping at them before he moves on. “You are so fucking delicious,” he murmurs. 

Dean closes his eyes for a moment, letting his memories merge with the present. Cas has always loved him like this; with every fiber of his being focused on him. Cas worships him, is reverent and careful with him. Even when they are frantic and rough, screwing each other with ferocity, Cas manages to show Dean how much he is treasured. This time is no different. As he gives devotion to Dean’s skin, his words wax eloquent. “I know that they took me against my will, Dean, because there is no conceivable way that I would have left you, left this, intentionally.”

“Mmm. But we already knew that.”

“Yes, well, I’m reiterating. I would never knowingly or willingly leave you.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Dean is already splayed out, vulnerable but secure. Right now, his body is a gift to give to Cas, to do with as he pleases.

Cas has been unbuttoning his way down Dean’s chest, tongue circling the peaked nipples, teasing them rigid before adding the suction and pressure that connects them with his rapidly swelling cock. His long, nimble tongue is snaking along Dean’s skin again, leading down, down, inexorably down.

When they’ve helped each other out of their clothes, stopping whenever their lips can connect without obstruction, Cas sits up and looks his fill. 

His mouth tips up in earnest happiness. “I’ve never wanted something more, and I’m terrified that I’ll do something wrong.” 

Dean sits up to join him, pulling his head gently down to tip against his. “This isn’t a right or wrong type of scenario, Cas. If you do something I don’t like, I’ll tell you and you change it. Please, get the idea out of your head that it’s going to be perfect. Nothing about two bodies coming together is ever perfect.”

“It was perfect when you fucked me,” Cas almost pouts, still feeling every fear and inadequacy crowding in his brain even while his hips need to thrust against Dean like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

“No, baby. It wasn’t. Even though I’ve been with you for years, it had been a long time, and I made some mistakes. I didn’t settle your mind enough, so you were tense, which made it harder than it needed to be.”

Dean laps against the dark freckle over his heart, eyes gentle and serene, waiting for Cas to meet them. “It doesn’t matter, though. Even if this is an unmitigated disaster, we’ll laugh, and I’ll guide you.”

Cas’s brow furrows. “Can’t you just start out guiding me so we skip all of the awkward?”

With a boisterous laugh, Dean gestures for Cas to kneel up so that he can turn over onto his stomach. “Yes, my logical love. I will guide you however you want. Tell me to knock it off if I take it too far.”

Now that Dean is beneath him again, Cas leans down to nuzzle into the fuzzy hair at his nape. When he makes contact, Dean cants himself upward, spreading his ass by widening his stance. It forces Cas’s cock to slip into the crease, and they both groan at the feeling. Cas pulls his hips back and then forward, dragging himself against this tender skin, the hidden depths of Dean.

“As good as this feels, you’re going to have to get me ready before we go any farther.”

“Of course,” Cas says quickly, clearing his throat and taking the little bottle of lube from Dean. 

Cas drizzles a little of the viscous liquid over his skin, watching it drip down over the swell of Dean’s ass and over the little pink knot of muscle at the center. Two of his fingers are waiting patiently just below it to catch the excess and he slicks his fingers up and starts to rub along the puckered skin. He knows how good this feels, and now he can focus on making it feel good for Dean. Almost immediately, the pressure pushing back against him gives way. Dean is softening like butter, his sighs accompanying every exhale, forcing himself to let Cas in as easily as possible. 

Using one of his hands, Dean reaches back and feels around until he can twist Cas’s fingers to stack on top of each other. “I don’t need you to be as careful with me. My body is used to being fucked. I’ll open up for you with just a little coaxing. Try pushing in with your fingers like that.”

“Both of them?” he almost squeaks. 

“Yeah, Cas. I want you fucking me as soon as possible. It won’t hurt me.” 

Cas is suspicious, but does as Dean asks. There is resistance, and Dean tells him to keep pushing. “I want you, sweetheart. I’ll let you in. Just be firm.”

Cas rubs against the muscle again and then points his fingers and dips into Dean smoothly. His jaw drops at the sensation of being inside of Dean for the first time. It’s velvet warmth and wet softness. It’s welcoming, and so incredibly tight that Cas’s eyes cross at the thought of fitting himself inside this tiny space. 

“Oh-oh fuck,” he stutters along with a huffed out sound of appreciation. 

“Pull them out slowly and twist them to the side while you push back in,” Dean commands gently, his shoulder buried in the mattress while he’s watching Cas over his shoulder. It’s so incredibly hot, so damned sexy, that Cas’s breathing is already becoming labored. He does as Dean asks, and his fingers sink even deeper, up to the webbing. Dean drops his forehead to the bed, moaning out a curse. 

“I missed your fingers. They’re so long,” Dean smiles, teasing Cas even as he’s genuinely enjoying feeling this again. He’s opened himself up many times, but it just isn’t the same.

Cas has not seen the appeal of assholes until just now. When he dips into Dean’s body, it’s amazing to see how his opening relaxes into a new shape, giving permission for him to be there. Dean guides him into a few more positions with his fingers, adding another one, and then finally pushing it out of the way. The little hole stays open, and it’s like a siren call to Cas’s cock. He needs to fill that hole. Now.

“I’m good. Cas, fuck me. Please.” He’s breathy and trembling with excitement, his forearms braced on the bed so he can use the leverage to fuck himself on Cas as soon as he’s in place. Dean is shaky with the need to have Cas inside of him. “C’mon, Cas. Don’t make me beg.”

“I think I would love to hear that, actually. But not now. I’m too impatient.” Cas kisses the widened hole with his cock head. It’s still so small. He can’t believe that he’s going to be able to fit. Running one hand down Dean’s back, he uses the other one to line himself up while he pushes gently inside. 

As soon as Dean feels the pressure, he starts up a litany of praise. “Oh, Cas! Baby, fuck. Yes. Finally.”

Cas lets out a wounded sound as he’s surrounded by the clench of Dean’s body, even though the way is smooth and molten. His eyes cross at the immense pleasure surging through his body. Head tipping to the heavens, he growls his satisfaction.

“Yeah, let me hear those sounds, baby.” Dean dips his back and shoves himself back onto Cas, taking him all the way to the hilt. 

“Oh, fuck. Dean.”

“It’s good, isn’t it,” he corroborates as he leans forward and then pushes back again. He’s fucking himself on Cas while he gets his bearings. It’s heavenly and he thinks that Cas might have actually gotten thicker since he was last inside of Dean. It’s entirely possible. He’s grown everywhere else.

In the best kind of agony, suspended on the knife edge of too much, Cas agrees, “So good. So goddamn perfect, Dee.”

The nickname that he hasn’t heard in years shocks a cry from Dean’s lips. “Cas!” he cries, suddenly needing his body to be touching him at every possible point. Dean shoves himself up onto his knees and Cas follows through by pulling him flush against his body. His hands are everywhere, tugging Dean closer and banding across his body to keep him there. They’re building a solid rhythm together while they try to connect their mouths over Dean’s shoulder. The angle is horrible, so the kisses are inelegant, but neither of them care. They need to connect, need to be as close as possible. 

“Hang on. Pull out. I want to ride you, baby.”

Cas pushes deep and grinds in a sloppy figure eight before reluctantly pulling out of his new heaven. Dean notices the scowl and chuckles. “It’s okay, you won’t be gone long.” 

With that, he gently knocks Cas over onto his back and straddles his lap in the same move. As he starts to rock in Cas’s lap, he feels the tip of his cock catch on his rim. Guiding Cas into his body, Dean can’t take his eyes off of him as he sinks down. Looking down at the first and only man to ever catch his attention, Dean lets himself feel every bit of the love he has for Cas. 

The shine of his gorgeous eyes, blown dark with elemental need, is enough to make Dean shiver. Overflowing emotions bubble up and out of his body, spilling like a waterfall over him and his beloved. He wants to watch that adoration and heat in Cas’s gaze turn up to consuming flames. Greedily, he swivels his hips and plunges down to fill his body with Cas. Beneath him, hands grip his waist and the deepest, darkest voice promises sin.

“Dee,” Cas whines and bucks up into him. His next words form, but don’t make it out in one piece. They moan and sigh while they praise Cas’s newfound home. 

“Cas, I’m getting close,” Dean warns as he rolls his hips in a fluid wave. 

Shaking his head, Cas grits out, “Don’t wanna stop.”

“Oh, sweetheart. We’re not stopping anytime soon,” Dean promises and leans down to glide against Cas’s chest for a teasing kiss. “I’ve been waiting for five years. You’re going to have to fuck me at least twice more tonight.”

“In that case,” Cas says as he plants his feet, “I want to see you come all over me, Dean.” Breathing like a bull, Cas pistons up into him forcefully, keeping a tight grip on his waist. Dean’s brain goes offline at the sudden onslaught of pleasure. Cas is fucking him with laser-focused intent, and Dean is willing to give him whatever he wants if he can have this again. They’ve always been good together, but this is next level good; soul mate sex.

“Oh, fuck. Cas. I’m-” Dean only has to stroke his bouncing cock once to jump start a hurricane of an orgasm. He gasps and groans and trembles as Cas fucks him through it.

“Yeah, that’s it, Dee. Cover me.” Cas praises, lewd and raspy.

Dean loses muscle strength with every jet that pulses out of him. Watching it spatter Cas’s skin and slip into the hollow of his belly is one of the most satisfying sights he’s ever witnessed. He’s taken off guard when Cas flips their positions. With a fucked out kiss that goes on for an eternity and yet ends entirely too soon, Cas renews his punishing pace. His hands are hooked under Dean’s shoulders for leverage so that he can stay close. His come smears along their skin, and their humid breath mixes with the sweat of exertion. Dean loves every second of this dirty, powerful fuck.

Rhythm and force work together to push Cas to the brink, and Dean knows exactly what to say to push him over. Encouraging and challenging, Dean rumbles filth in his ear. 

“Wanna feel you, Cas. Explode inside me. Pump me full of your come and fuck me through it. C’mon, baby.”

Arching his back to find another inch or two for Cas to conquer, Dean runs his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair. Cas butts his head against his neck, exclaiming a chant of “Yes! Fuck, fuck, fuck” before he stills and groans out his release. 

Dean shares the sentiment as he feels the warmth spread inside him. He’s wanted this for so long that he can’t fathom not memorizing every detail. The trickle of it coming out with every lazy thrust, the softening of his cock, his weight getting heavier on Dean’s body. It’s all precious and sacred, and he will never take it for granted. 

“That was fucking unreal,” Cas mumbles against his neck. 

“I agree a thousand times over.” Cas shifts like he’s going to leave, but Dean tightens his arm around his back to keep him still. They interlace their legs so that Cas just slips to the side and drops his arm across Dean’s waist. Their breathing settles, their sweat is drying and making their skin prickle in the chilly air, and Dean is rubbing Cas’s shoulder with his thumb.

“You called me ‘Dee’ again.”

“I did?”

With a huge grin, Dean confirms it. “I thought I’d never hear it again, that it was locked up with my memories of you.”

“I didn’t realize I said it.”

“You never did, Cas. It was always like that; breathy and desperate. It’s the only time you shorten my name.”

Their lips meet again and the glow of the cabin lights seems to burnish their skin. 

“Promise me something?”

“Anything, Dean.”

“Promise me that you won’t ever leave me again.”

“I promise.”

  
  



	9. You Promised

Cas cracks his eyes open when he hears the first birds calling outside their window. Dean is already awake, tracing delicate designs over his shoulder and staring up at the ceiling. He feels the weight of Dean’s thoughts, the muffled thump of his worries coming down over them both.

“I would have thought I’d at least get a good morning smile after the orgasms you had last night,” Cas croaks and nuzzles into his throat. Dean startles out of his pensive distraction and then chuckles.

“You get more than smiles, Cas. You get whatever you want.”

“Mmm. I love the sound of that.”

Dean leans his cheek into Cas’s hair, needing one more point of contact between them. Their teasing falls flat because Dean’s mind is elsewhere and he doesn’t keep it going. 

“What’s going on with you?” Cas asks as he rolls to his stomach and leans up on his elbows.

“Just thinking, sweetheart.”

Cas watches him closely before testing out his theory. “You’re worried about going to the lab.”

“Of course I am, Cas. We don’t know what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“I know you think it’s too dangerous-”

Dean turns to meet Cas’s eye and holds out his hand. “You convinced me to do it; you don’t need to keep trying.”

“What has you so concerned, then?”

“I want to figure out what their intentions were. All of the pieces don’t add up.”

Cas scowls. “

“I still don’t think using you as a test subject was their end game. Why would they wipe your mind and then keep such close tabs on you? Why would they set you up in a home, with a job, and have you completely under their thumb? Why would they be looking for you so fervently if they were simply putting you out to pasture?”

“You think there’s more to their plan?”

“For this to make sense, I think there has to be.”

“You’re right.” Cas gets up, stretches, and strolls over to the threshold of the bathroom. Before entering, he turns and says, “The only way we’re going to know for sure is if we find the information we’re missing in that lab. We’re out of clues in the sketchbook, there’s nothing about it in the research we uncovered, and none of my memories have returned.”

Dean sighs and nods his head. He knows Cas is right, but he has such a foul feeling in his gut about taking this step. It feels like they’re walking straight into a trap of their own making.

“Come take a shower with me. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we’ll have our answers.”

“Or be dead,” Dean grumbles as he makes his way over to him.

“Did you seriously just put that thought out there in the universe?” Cas asks with a pinched frown and waving hands.

“Giving voice to something doesn’t manifest it, Cas.” Dean smiles and turns Cas toward the shower. He bumps into him as he steps right up against his back and curls his arms around Cas’s chest to pull him close.

“You don’t know that. If either of us could possibly understand the complexities of the universe, I’m pretty sure it would be me.”

“Yes, I know. You’re the brilliant scientist.”

“That’s right,” he pouts as he turns on the water. “So stop inviting trouble we don’t need.”

Dean chuckles at that and playfully pinches Cas’s butt cheek. “I don’t need to invite any trouble into our lives. You’re like a freaking electromagnet for it already.”

Cas mock laughs as Dean steps into the shower. “You’re hilarious.”

With a shrug, Dean ducks into the stream of hot water and admits, “I’m just calling it like I see it, sweetheart.”

Cas grumbles petulantly but joins him.

  
  


  
  


The turn of the key in the lock sounds a hundred times louder than it probably is. It’s the sound of their fate being determined, of choosing a path they can’t return from. Dean is aware that the melodrama in his head is not helping the situation, but the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach has only twisted tighter with every step towards this door. Every sense is magnified in a way that is less to do with battle-readiness and more to do with panic. 

If Cas is expecting typical soldier Dean, he’s in for a rude awakening. Dean is anything but stoic and calm today. It’s quite distracting, but it’s worse because Cas has obviously noticed. He keeps glancing at him out of the corner of his eye like he’s expecting him to do something crazy.

Dean feels sweat trickling down his neck, and it can’t be more than the high 50s outside. Cas turns the knob on the door, but Dean puts his hand flat against it to stop him from opening it.

“Cas, are you sure you want to do this?”

With a sigh, Cas rolls his eyes. “We’ve been over this…repeatedly.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry to keep questioning you.”

“Look, you don’t have to go-”

“I’m not afraid for my own safety,” Dean grits through his clenched jaw.

Cas pulls himself up to his full height and lifts his chin. “Then lets go.”

Dean closes his eyes for a breath and then backs away from the door. Cas opens it very slowly and cautiously while Dean waits. His hands are trembling with adrenaline. He needs to pull himself together or he’s going to be more of a hindrance than a help. ‘Think, Winchester.’

He takes the lead, drawing his gun as they descend the staircase that starts just on the other side of the door. His instincts are screaming at him to pick Cas up and run, but he can’t. Cas wants to explore this place, and he’s going to be there to keep him safe. With the weight of his gun in his grip, his battle senses start to return. At the bottom of the stairs, there are three corridors to choose from. Glancing down each one, Dean disregards the one with a large conference room and another that leads to another stairway. He nods toward the far left and Cas leads on quiet feet. Door after door appears, but Cas keeps walking. When they find a set of double doors at the end of the hall, Cas staggers. Bingo. This must be someplace familiar to him. 

Not wanting to risk making any noise, Dean turns Cas and touches his head tenderly. 

There is pain in his eyes and his fake smile is more of a grimace, but Cas is driven to find answers. They search the doors and find a fingerprint scanner to the right. Making eye contact, they come to a unanimous decision. They have to at least try. Cas places his hand on the scanner, and like magic, the doors whoosh open and the overhead lights snap to life.

“This is my lab,” Cas whispers with awe. Looking around, Dean is impressed by the abundant equipment in the large room. Workstations line one wall, shiny cases full of bottles and vials run in between them, and there are sterile-looking metal tables jutting out at even intervals, covered with even more equipment. It looks like a scientist’s Disney world. 

Without any hesitation, Cas heads to the front of the room with long, confident strides. There are dual monitors on the computer there, and the area seems to have been neglected. 

“This is my office. I remember it.” Cas smiles as he whispers, taking it all in with anime eyes.

“Is anything coming to you?”

He shakes his head, but then seems to realize that the computer is still there. Booting it up, he tries a couple of passwords that are his go-tos.”

“I wasn’t me here. I was him. I mean-me before.”

Dean doesn’t interrupt. He knows what Cas means. 

“Dean, give me passwords that I would have used before.”

“Try my birthday.”

Cas arcs an elegant brow. Dean blushes and gives him his birth date.

“Try Perseus or Andromeda,” Dean coaches when that doesn’t work. 

“What about music?” 

“Zeppelin?” 

Cas tilts his head, “Isn’t that more your thing?”

Dean turns heated eyes on him and licks his lips. “Trust me, baby. You have many, many fond memories of Zeppelin, too.”

Cas swallows hard and reluctantly turns back to the computer. After trying every iteration of the name, Dean thinks of another possibility.

“You’ve always had a thing for my car. Try 67Impala.”

Cas shoots straight up in the chair and lifts his hands from the keys. His eyes and smile widening comically. “Holy shit. We’re in.”

While Cas is looking around on the computer, Dean contacts Charlie. He gives her the IP address, workstation network id, and Cas’s login information. She asks him to share his network drive with her, and then they disconnect. It’s the quickest conversation they’ve ever had, but she understands the stakes of getting this information fast.

“We need to go, Cas.”

“Look at this, Dean. They’ve managed to alter all of the pheromones in their bee subjects except the correct ones.” Damn it. Cas is stuck in his science zone, and it’s going to be nearly impossible to get him moving.

“They can most likely tell that a computer has been accessed in here, sweetheart. We can’t hang around.”

With an adorable pout, Cas agrees. “Yeah, okay. We’ll be able to get what we need from Charlie later, right?”

Before Dean can answer, they turn the corner, and see someone standing in their way, backed up by half a dozen guards. 

Fuck. 

“Dr. Novak, this is a restricted facility. What are you doing here?”

Cas the asshole appears. “I left some things in my office, so I thought I’d pop by and pick them up.”

A tight smile. “Ah, Dr. Milton then, is it?”

“I was until you hijacked my brain.”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

“No.” Cautiously.

“The name is Colonel Crowley. Since you and your boy toy have been out sleuthing through the countryside, I’m sure you recognize it.” 

  
  


Cas and Dean both go rigid. He knows what they’ve been up to, and he is the head of this covert program. He had been the one to personally “recruit” Cas from CalTech. 

The smug troll continues, “Your advisor made a handsome commission for bringing you to my attention. I can’t say that you were worth the price I paid.”

“You should have dealt directly with me instead. Cut out the middle man.”

“Are you saying you would have been cooperative?” he quirks a brow at Cas’s comment. “I got the impression that you were less than enthusiastic about our vision.”

If that isn’t the understatement of the year, Dean isn’t sure what is.

“Well, you didn’t really give me an incentive to play ball, now, did you?” Cas crosses his arms over his chest, and Dean tries not to look impressed by his bluff. Cas has no idea what did or didn’t transpire between them. All he does know is that he didn’t go willingly. Bless his scientific brain for using this confrontation to pry more information out of the man.

“Hey. I promised to leave your best friend and his brother alone, and I kept my promise.” Crowley all but snarls his words while Dean and Cas meet eyes. Dean’s heart aches for Cas, who was still looking out for he and Sam even after being kidnapped and forced into essentially slave labor. He wants to pull him into his arms, take him out of this lab, out of the state, and possibly out of the country.

Crowley’s tone changes, insinuation creeping into his words. “Ah…I thought he might be more than that to you. I should have trusted my instincts and brought him in. Then I might have gotten a job worth my investment.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets for the first time, gesturing between them.

“Why didn’t you?” Dean interrupts. Even being a prisoner here would have been better than thinking Cas was dead for years. He doesn’t realize that truth until he asks the question. Nothing could be worse than being separated from Cas again. 

“Your brother would have questioned your disappearance, honestly. Plus, not knowing if you were safe was a great motivator for our Dr. Milton. He couldn’t be sure if disobeying was going to cause your death, so he obeyed...for the most part.”

Cas glares at the man, finally realizing why he had been so careful to hide his real work. Dean’s life had depended on it. Of course. Now it makes all the sense in the world. 

With a nonchalant gesture from Crowley, the guards come forward and take them into custody. Dean doesn’t try to fight because the numbers are not on their side and perhaps they can still come out of this unscathed if they play along. Cas is surprised by his acquiescence, but follows his lead.

They are led to another lab towards the center of the facility. Dean pays attention to every door and sign. He counts his steps and notes the changes in direction. Once inside the new lab, they force Cas into a chair and Dean’s senses go into alert mode. He refuses to move away from Cas, and they up the ante by wrenching his arm up painfully behind his back. Cas calls out for him to stop fighting, to keep himself safe. The worry in Cas’s eyes makes him relent, and they shove him into a chair on the opposite side of the room. He doesn’t like this distance. There is too much that can happen before he could get to Cas. Since he can’t do anything about it with their hands putting pressure on his shoulders and his hands behind him, he catalogs everything he can. Of the six guards, only five of them have visible weapons, which means the other must have it hidden. From the bulk around their ankles, he’d be willing to bet that they all carried backups in ankle holsters, too. Double fuck.

When they strap Cas’s arms down to the chair, Dean leaps up and battles his way closer, not letting his lack of arms stop him. He only gets a couple of steps before he’s wrestled into zip tie restraints as well. 

“Relax, Cujo. We’re not going to hurt him.” Crowley smirks as he saunters closer to Cas.

“I want to assuage your curiosity, Dr. Milton. We wiped your memories away because you were becoming too problematic. Your effortless genius at the university didn’t translate to our research here. We knew that we had made a mistake with you. You are too stubborn and headstrong to take to being manhandled into doing what we wanted, so we were going to give you some time away and then approach you again in a softer way. Offer you a teaching position at the university and then give you the perfect publishing opportunity.”

“Why would you tell me that now?” Cas questions at the same time the thought crosses Dean’s mind. As soon as it does, dread sinks into his stomach and panic lights up his entire body. Dean is seeing red as he answers Cas.

“They aren’t worried about you remembering it because they plan on wiping your memory again.”

The horror that dawns on Cas’s face is a physical blow to Dean. Why didn’t he fight when they were closer to the exit, when their hands literally weren’t tied. His caution could be their undoing now. 

“Over my dead body,” Cas snarls, yanking and twisting his arms to loosen the leather bands.

“I’m sure we can arrange that if you continue to fight us,” Crowley answers with a nonchalance that belies the space he gives the guards to rein Cas in. Crowley might be a Colonel, but he isn’t a soldier. He’s most likely used manipulation and sordid actions to reach this level of achievement, considering the mess he’s created under the Army’s nose.

“And that will be over my dead body,” Dean promises with deadly intent to back up his words. One of the guards leans over him to reach his zip tied hands. He’s holding actual cuffs and looking to switch them out. If they get cuffs on him, he isn’t going to be moving from this chair. He settles down, seemingly going docile under the other man’s weight. 

While they try to calm Cas down, one of the guards wheels over a monitoring station, and his struggling gets worse. From the fear in his eyes, he seems to recognize what is happening. Dean wants to comfort him, but he has to wait until just the right moment. ‘Hang in there, sweetheart,’ Dean prays. ‘Just another minute.’

Cas kicks out at one of the guards, who retaliates by punching him in the mouth. When Dean sees his bloody lip, he loses all focus, a haze of rage clouding his vision and judgment. Plowing into the guard in front of him with his shoulder, Dean growls out his fury and stands. In a blink, the remaining guards all aim their guns at him. 

Cas almost has a coronary when he sees the weapons trained on Dean. “No!” he shouts, going completely still except for his jagged, sawing breath. He doesn’t dare move in case one of the men behind the guns scares easily. He can’t be the reason that Dean gets hurt. He won’t even contemplate a worse scenario, even though it’s very likely if this situation isn’t defused immediately. 

Searching for Crowley with just his eyes, he pleads his case. “If you let him go and assure his safety, I will do the research for you. I will create the pheromone you want.”

“We gave you years to complete that task, and all you gave us were psychotic, cannibalistic bees!” Crowley yells. “I don’t believe you can do it.”

They are at a standoff. If Cas agrees that he can’t do it, Crowley might let them go. If he disagrees, he will be forced to do it. He’ll have to create something that could kill innumerable people. When he looks at Dean, it isn’t even a question of what he will do.

“I already did,” Cas confirms, closing his eyes. He doesn’t want to unleash evil into the world, but he wants to lose Dean even less. He should be ashamed of himself for choosing one man over thousands, but as they’ve continually told each other…he is Cas’s everything.

“Cas…no,” Dean says with a sadness that breaks his heart. “Don’t do this for me.”

“I have to, Dean. I can’t lose you again.” His chin wobbles along with his words; his face contorting in shame and resignation.

“You really created the pheromone? And you can process it on a large scale?” Crowley’s interest is nauseating. Cas looks pointedly at Dean, who still has multiple guns pointing at him, and then back at the Colonel. He rolls his eyes, but issues the order to stand down. The guards holster their weapons and step away from Dean.

“Yes, the research supports that the process can be scaled up significantly.”

“Enough of that scientific bullshit. Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Guaranteed?”

Cas glares ominously. “As soon as Dean is released, I will put it in writing. I will get my research, go back to my old lab, and start working.”

Crowley tilts his head, contemplating. “You will need to remain here so that we can monitor your progress.”

“Of course.”

The Colonel agrees, and the tension in the room dissolves like salt in water. He gestures to the guards to release them both. “Go say your goodbyes, Dr. Milton.”

Cas feels uneasy, but relieved when he is able to stand and step away from the chair. “Thank you, Crowley. I promise that won’t be sorry.”

“No, I don’t think I will be,” he agrees, looking like a cat with a whole bowl of cream.

He gives a false smile and a curt nod before heading toward Dean. Behind him, Crowley says, “Now that I know the research exists, I don’t actually need you anymore, Dr. Milton.” 

Cas’s eyes widen as the shock of his words registers. He’s in mid-stride, only a few steps from Dean when it happens.

Dean sees the surprise on Cas’s face quickly followed by something he hoped to never see there…terror.

No. No, no, no. What is he missing? What’s happening? Scanning the scene in front of him, he sees something small in Crowley’s hand. His thumb presses down as his slimy grin lifts. All of his greed and malice leak through his mask of confidence and control. Massive, unlimited fuck.

Dean watches helplessly as Cas stops dead in his tracks. The connection between them, the chemistry, trust, and love, snaps when all of the recognition drains from Castiel’s eyes. Like he’s being electrocuted, his body jerks into an obscene arc, and he drops like dead weight. 

Dean screams, “NO! CAS!!” 

He rushes to catch the vessel of his love, but he can’t see Cas in there. His gorgeous blue eyes are wide open yet seeing nothing. 

Clutching him in his arms, Dean screams and sobs out his grief. This can’t be happening. “Fuck,” he chokes out. “Baby, you can’t leave me again. You promised, Cas.” 

Rocking him back and forth, Dean tries to think. He doesn’t know what that bastard did to his brain, how invasive it is this time. If he just wiped his memories, they will recover. He can help Cas remember him again. If it’s worse, though. Dean swallows hard around the vile thought. Trembling, he presses fingers to the side of Cas’s throat. He feels him breathing, thank all that is holy. 

Kissing his forehead, Dean whispers his love quietly, tears spilling from beneath closed lids. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Crowley snaps and commands the guards to get him to his feet. “Take him to lock-up.”

Dean refuses to let go of Cas, until it becomes apparent that holding on to him while they drag him upright could hurt Cas more. “Let me set him down,” he growls, and they let him. 

As soon as his hands are away from Cas, the pain is overwhelming. He doesn’t want any part of this fight right now; he wants to carry the love of his life out of here and get him medical help. Dean is combating dueling priorities in his head and heart: the need to stay and protect Cas who is completely vulnerable at the moment; and the need to escape from this place and get help. In both scenarios, he will have to take a beating, and that’s fine. He’s up for taking whatever these hired thugs can dish out. 

While they are yelling at him to get on his knees, he sees an opening in their defenses. One of the guards hasn’t reached for his weapon. He knows that he can overpower him and turn their bodies to use him as a shield. He could back towards the door and then shove his human shield forward as he hits the emergency lock for the door on his way out. It would give him enough time to get away and call Charlie. He sees every move he needs to make, but he can’t make himself move. Looking down at the ground behind him, he sees Cas lying there and he knows that he has to stay. He had lost his mind seeing the guard hit Cas once. There’s no way he can stomach leaving him here with his enemies, hoping that they don’t decide to take out their anger on him. 

No, Dean isn’t going to leave Cas behind, and he sure as hell isn’t going to let them lock him up. Turning with his jaw set and steel in his spine, he commands, low and deep. “You want to haul me away from him? You’re welcome to try.”

  
  


One guard runs at him, trying to take him out, but despite the guns in their hands, they don’t shoot him. By the time he’s disabled two of them, Crowley has had enough. Taking a gun out of a guard’s hand, he shoves the man away, muttering under his breath.

“Mr. Winchester, don’t make me shoot you.”

“I’m not leaving him.” Dean snaps. 

Crowley rolls his eyes and aims the gun. Dean hears the shot, but doesn’t wait for it to hit him. He dives to the side, landing hard on the metal and concrete floor. Rolling to his back, he curses when he sees the smug grin on the closest guard’s face. “Son of a bitch,” are the last words he speaks before the taser is shoved into his chest.

  
  
  
  


  
  
  


When Dean wakes, he is in a hospital bed. Looking around himself cautiously, he doesn’t see any signs of being in custody. Everything points to being in a civilian facility, too. What the fuck happened? He was sure that if he ever woke up it would be in a cramped, disgusting cell.

Suddenly, a wonderful, familiar sound reaches his ears. Dean barks out a laugh when he recognizes the rhythmic sounds of Sam’s snoring coming from behind him. 

“Sam?” 

There’s an aborted snore that turns into a snort, and then his little brother’s voice calls to him. 

“Dean?”

  
  


He’s never been happier to hear that voice. He sits up quickly, and immediately regrets it. They apparently used him like a pinata after he was unconscious. Pansies.

“Fuck,” Dean whimpers and slouches back down.

Sam winces sympathetically and wanders over to his bedside. “They really kicked the shit out of you, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, man,” he moans. “At least they didn’t fill me full of lead.”

Dean takes a long moment to take in his brother. Sam is here and…wait.

“Where is Cas?” The panic races through his system as soon as he remembers where he last saw him. 

“Easy, Dean. He’s here.”

“He’s alive? He’s…” Dean’s voice cracks on emotion that is too much to contain.

“Yeah, he’s alive. They admitted him to the ICU as a precaution because no one could tell what had happened.”

“I need to see him.”

Sam pulls a face. “He hasn’t woken up yet, and you’re injured. Just rest and I’ll keep you updated.”

“No, Sam. I can’t be away from him right now. I need to see for myself that he’s okay.” Dean sits up gingerly, hissing when several stitches pull at his skin.

“Don’t be a stubborn asshole about this.”

“Sam, I thought they killed him for a second. He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.” Dean implores with his brother to understand the necessity of getting to Cas’s side. Sam must see something in his eyes that convinces him, because he just mutters, “I’ll get a wheelchair. You’re not going to make it up there on foot.”

When the elevator door opens, Dean sees Charlie sitting with her legs crossed under her, her pale skin glowing by the light of her computer screen and her fingers furiously tapping on its keys. When she looks up, she grins the grin that illuminates the world. 

“You’re awake!”

She comes at him aggressively to give him a warm welcome, but at Sam’s warning gesture to go easy, she barely touches him. “Yeah, and I need your help again.”

“What now?”

“I need to get into Cas’s room but…”

“You aren’t family.”

“Right. On paper only. I’m his family, Charlie. I’m his only family. If there was ever a time to use those hacking skills, now is the time.”

Folding her arms over her chest, she pouts, “You haven’t even said thank you for getting you guys out of there. It was a major police brouhaha to enter an Army base. It was a whole thing.”

On a sigh, Dean promises, “I will ask for a detailed account of every one of your acts of bravery and heroism another day. I swear.” She scowls until she notices his chin quivering. Her eyes go wide, and her hand rests on his shoulder in support. He continues with a warble in his voice, “I don’t know what they did to Cas, though. I’m terrified that they might have wiped his memory or something worse.”

Nodding her head, she says, “Of course, Dean. I’ll get you in there. Give me five minutes and head to the nurse’s station. I’ll change his status to married and list you as his next of kin.”

Dean feels an amazing warmth at those words. That is exactly what they should be; family. If that bastard Crowley hadn’t set his sights on Cas, they would have been married by now. Cas would be his husband. Dean didn’t recognize the depth of his need to be officially bound to Cas until just now. He makes a promise to himself; as soon as Cas is able to safely leave this hospital, they’re going to rectify that.

Sam talks to him on their way over to the nurse’s station. “You’ve come back to life since finding him, Dean. You need him. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that you get to stay together.”

Dean meets his eye with a watery gaze. “Thanks, man.”

After the sob story that Dean lays on, the nurse takes him into the ICU, cooing over him and petting him like her own child.

Sam isn’t allowed to go with them, but Dean can’t think to fight the rules anymore. He just needs to see Cas; he has to see him breathing and touch his warm skin. As she wheels Dean back, she tells him that they found a strange circuit attached to Cas’s brain, and they still don’t know what happened to him. Dean asks to speak to the neurosurgeon as soon as possible. Charlie has the research on the microchip program. She can share it with the surgeon here so that they can remove that thing from Cas’s head safely. Dean is finally able to take a real breath when he sees Cas. He’s lying there, still and silent, but the attached monitors assure Dean that Cas is alive. 

He waits for his Sleeping Beauty to awake. In the long hours by his bedside, Dean takes his hand, plays with the locks of hair that forever curl against the nape of his neck, and kisses him sweetly over the scar on his head. Dean bargains with God again, praying to have more time with Cas.

  
  


“Please don’t take him from me again. I was a hollow shell of a person without him. I will be broken if I lose him again. Please.” He bows his head over Cas’s body, hoping that his humbleness and humility will tip the scales in their favor. “Cas deserves to have a long, happy life. He was the victim here.”

As the hours pass, Dean’s pleas turn somber. “My heart won’t beat without him. If you take him, you might as well take me, too.” 

In the silence of early morning, he waxes poetic about the strength of their relationship. They had often been called codependent by friends, especially when they chose to spend time with each other rather than with the group. Cas had always said that if they were crutches for each other, that was okay, because they were also each other’s wings. 

The sun rises, and Dean watches it without any joy. Instead, he feels that he can no longer give voice to the thoughts and feelings that poured from him all night long. With the light, he will be forced to be strong for everyone else’s sake. 

Hearing a faint stirring behind him, he turns and sees Cas starting to wake. Dean leaps to press the call button and then takes his seat by his side just in time for Cas to open his eyes.

His heart hammering, Dean is holding his breath. Will Cas remember him? Please let him remember. That might be too much to hope for. Even if Cas doesn’t remember anything, he’s awake. They weren’t completely sure if even that was a possibility.

As soon as his gorgeous blue eyes focus on Dean, Cas smiles. Dean lets out the breath and mutters ‘thank you’ under his breath as he leans over and plants a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Dean murmurs. 

“How long was I out?”

“Hours. I’m not sure exactly. I was tazed and they kicked the shit out of me while I was unconscious.” 

Scoffing with disdain, Cas replies, “That’s typical for that crew. They always take the cheap shot.”

Dean smirks at his comment, but then he realizes what his words mean. Cas recognizes the guards. He knows their typical behavior patterns. 

He remembers.

“Cas,” Dean starts to alert him to the change just as he obviously figures it out for himself. With a gasp, Cas fidgets upright, briefly touching the scar on his head while his eyes twitch back and forth as he recalls more and more information. The wait is excruciating, but Dean bears it. He doesn’t want to do anything to interrupt the flow of memories that are seeming to pour into Cas’s consciousness.

“How much do you remember?” Dean finally questions.

“I can’t be sure,” he pauses. With an adorable head tilt, he says, “but I think I remember everything.”

Joyous eyes meet and hold on each other. 

“Really? You remember living in Lawrence?”

Cas grins and nods. “The putrid color of the bricks on the school, the stink of my father’s horrible rust-colored recliner, and the little creek where we used to fill our thermoses. Yeah. It’s all there.”

Dean lets out a whoop of happiness. He should be quieter in this place of rest and recovery, but he can’t contain himself. Cas remembers their past. He isn’t carrying their memories alone anymore.

Cas runs his thumb across Dean’s cheekbone with a sweet nostalgia. “Most of all, I remember you, baby. You were the cutest little urchin with big anime eyes and freckles for days.”

Dean takes his hand and kisses his palm delicately. “I was terrified, Cas. You dropped, and all I could think was that I was losing you again.”

“Never. Never again, Dee.”

  
  


  
  
  
  
  


Whatever Crowley did fried the breaker chip in his head. Cas regained all of his memories; a flood of information inundating him and creating quite an overwhelming case of cognitive dissonance. Even weeks later, he would forget which life was real from time to time.

Because of the danger leaving a hunk of metal in his brain could cause, Cas demanded that they remove it before he left the hospital. Obviously, if it came loose or corroded, it might do more significant damage where he can’t fathom dealing with any more. Cas is nothing if not vain about his considerable intellect. Besides, knowing that a vulnerability exists inside of him that he can’t control? Not happening.

When he wakes from surgery, Dean is waiting like the overeager golden retriever puppy he turns into around Cas these days. Having Cas back in his original, unadulterated state is the best thing to ever happen to him. He’s giddy, and he’s not too proud to show it.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Fine, honey bear,” he teases while Dean pushes the button to lift the head of the bed upright. “You look like you got some good news.”

“I’m just happy that the surgery went well. I don’t want anyone else going into that brilliant skull.”

Cas grins and snorts. “You and me both, baby. I already want to hunt that asshole down and cram something large and painful into his head and see how he likes it.”

“Well, you’re going to have to go to Leavenworth to accomplish that goal.” Dean drops the announcement like he didn’t just say something incredibly provoking. 

Cas’s eyes go wide and he grabs onto Dean’s arm. “You do have news. Spill it.”

Smug is a good look for Dean, but then again, what isn’t? Cas can’t help but be torn between wanting to bask in his boyfriend’s beauty and wanting to throttle him for being coy with vital information.

“Charlie managed to mine everything from their servers, and she found enough damning evidence to shut down the entire operation. The colonel is going to be in prison for the rest of his life.”

Cas has never smiled so big. Well, that’s not true. Dean brings that joy out in him plenty. This is the first time he’s been so happy without it relating to Dean, though.

“Couldn’t have happened to a nastier, more vile individual.”

“Agreed.” Dean gives him a sip of water and presses the call button to alert the nurse that Cas is awake. 

He blushes, something he hardly does, and confesses the rest. “As a former Army officer, they are crediting me with uncovering the unauthorized group. They’re giving me a medal.”

“That’s fantastic, my love,” Cas beams at him, toying with the hand in his grip. “You deserve it. There’s no way I would have been able to do this on my own. I never would have woken up from that nightmare of a fake life without you.”

With the most heart wrenching honesty, Dean leans over him and finally says what he’s been needing to say to Cas for five years. “I’m so sorry that I believed their lies.”

Cas hushes him, his hand stroking the side of his face, even as his own eyes fill. Dean continues anyway. “No, Cas. This is important. I should have questioned what they told me. I should have fought to see you. I should have stayed instead of running away to lick my wounds.”

“Dean, you couldn’t have known.”

“I should have,” he barks. “I knew there was no way you were doing drugs. I shouldn’t have…”

“Sweetheart, you were barely in your twenties. Give yourself a break. How can you blame yourself for not recognizing a government cover up like this? It’s insane. No one would have thought this was possible.”

A single fat tear drops onto the blanket covering Cas. “We lost five years,” Dean cries.

“I know. They stole five years of happiness together, and that is something to mourn,” Cas agrees quietly. “But we can’t do anything about that. The past is the past.”

“I’m angry, Cas. I’m so fucking angry.”

“I am, too. Believe it or not, that was the one constant thing in my life until they wiped my slate clean. I was vengefully, spitefully angry that they were using you to keep me in line. That anger kept me motivated for years. I never would have managed to get that research out and hidden so completely without that anger fueling me.”

Dean can see the fire still burning in his depths. Cas is understating how much that fuel corroded him, letting him think he emerged unscathed. There will be a time and a place to tease that trauma out of Cas, to make him face those demons, but Dean knows that today can’t be that day. Cas needs time to deal with his abduction. When he’s ready to face it all, they will work through it together. As if sensing the shift in Dean’s thoughts, Cas quirks a smile.

“But I’ve given enough of my life to that despair. I want to leave it behind us.”

Dean nods his agreement. For now, they will push it aside. 

“There’s more to my news,” he says coyly. 

“I thought there might be.” The twinkle in Dean’s eyes is one he knows so well. His gorgeous love wears his excitement so plainly on his face. It lights up his entire being. Seeing his joy is breathtaking no matter how often he is able to witness it.

“The government is suitably embarrassed by all that happened at Fort Ord and the lab farm, and they want to keep the incident as hush hush as possible.”

“The incident? Is that really what they’re calling it?”

Cas is so fiery, it does Dean’s heart good. “Settle down, baby. This is good news. They have offered you an obscene amount of money as a settlement in exchange for your silence.”

Cas scowls as he contemplates what Dean has said. “How obscene?”

Dean grins. “Triple X porn levels of obscene. You’ll be able to work on whatever you want for the rest of your life, Cas. Build your own lab. Fund your own research.”

“What if I just want to travel? Take you on a very long trip around the world? Maybe as a honeymoon?” 

“Did you just propose to me while you’re still recovering from surgery?” Dean’s face beams radiant joy.

Cas smirks. “I knew you were waiting to ask me until I was out of this place, but I don’t want to wait.”

Dean teases, “I don’t know if I can trust this proposal, sweetheart. Your mind is still fuzzy from all that anesthesia.”

“I’m in full control of my faculties.”

“Maybe I should call your doctor to be sure.”

Cas pulls him up out of his seat, framing his face with both hands. “Shut up and say ‘yes’.”

“See, you’re sending me mixed signals. I can’t shut up and speak at the same time.”

Cas promptly stops all further teasing by bringing Dean’s mouth down on his. After long, deep kisses drag out and spin up their lust for each other, Dean pulls away just enough to whisper ‘yes’ against his lips.

  
  


  
  


With their shiny new wedding bands hidden beneath thick gloves, Cas and Dean unpack their supplies in the spot they’ve decided to camp. They are racing sunlight in the foothills of the Cordillera del Paine mountain range in Patagonia. The stark, craggy peaks of the mountains are lighting up in brilliant hues as the sun begins its descent over the Pacific on the other side. 

This rugged, beautiful place is the starting point for their several months-long trek from the southern tip of South America, up to the northernmost places in North America. They will be camping as much as they can through the thousands and thousands of miles of wilderness, and then spoiling themselves with luxury accommodations in all of the cities they will visit. Because Cas is a planning genius, they will be staying in Rio de Janeiro during Carnival and staying in the Amazon River basin during the rainy season.

Cas hears a familiar zipper unzip and looks up curiously from his task of setting up their kitchen. 

“Dean, why in the hell are you setting up that tent?”

“It’s our lucky tent, baby.” They look at the worn, fraying nylon with fading colors. Both of them succumb to nostalgia and fondness for the little tent and all of the thousands of memories they made in it. Memories that they share with a simple glance at each other. 

“Maybe,” Cas admits, “but there’s no way it will be warm enough to keep us safe in this wild environment.”

“It kept us plenty safe in Kansas,” Dean denies with a lopsided grin that drives Cas wild. He can’t resist how mischievous it makes his husband look. It’s his kryptonite. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Cas sighs as he comes closer. “This is Patagonia. We’re within sight of Antarctica, for fuck’s sake.”

“You love me,” Dean says as he keeps setting up the little tent.

“That was never up for debate. You’re still ridiculous with that kid’s toy.”

  
  


Dean stops and taps the tent pole against his leg. “If you sleep in this tent with me again, I promise you’ll get lucky.”

  
  


They lay cuddled up together in their thick sleeping bags, staring up at the endless stars through the open top of their tent. Cas did get lucky, as did Dean, and now their intense body heat was trying to escape through their sweat-soaked skin. 

“Look up there,” Dean points. “See how those stars could look like legs?”

“Umm…”

“Right above that sharp peak.”

“Oh, okay. I can picture it, I think.”

“Yeah, and those stars look like they are wrapped around the other ones.” There is a childlike wonder in Dean’s voice that makes Cas want to watch him more than the heavens. 

“They could be arms, right?”

“Sure.”

“They could be entwined lovers,” Dean’s words ring with conviction. “They could be us.”

Cas smiles and kisses the side of his face. Their eyes meet like they have millions of times before and will millions of times to come, with a pure, selfless love.

“I told you that we’d be immortalized up there one day.”


End file.
